#AND THE ENDING WHEN HE TOLD HIM HE WAS SORRY FOR MISSING HIM GROW UP BUT COULDNT WAIT FOR THWM TO HANG OUT NOW | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strawberrysturniolo · 3 months

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i love the whole ‘best friends who ‘accidentally’ had sex’ type of concept and it really fits chris 😭 like imagine attending the end of the summer cookout marylou and jimmy have every year, you and chris decide to have wine coolers because why not?

next thing you know….

never grow up // chris sturniolo

summary: you and your childhood best friend reunite after months apart. after a couple of drinks, secrets start spilling, leading to lust that has been put on the back burner for years part 2

Chris and I have been inseparable since the day we met. With us living on the same street growing up, we were always together. If there was a picture taken of one of us as a kid, chances are the other one was in the background trying to photobomb.

Watching Chris and his brothers make the move to LA was hard. I sat back and supported my best friend, but it sucked knowing that our fault routine of being together after school and having sleepovers was coming to an end.

It all happened so fast. One minute he was there, and the next he was gone.

The love I have for Chris is unlike anything else in the world. I love Nick, and I adore Matt, but it’s different with Chris. We connect in different ways. We trust each other differently. I’ve never had a friendship like it, and I don’t think I ever will. We always joked about being in each other's weddings. He wanted me to stand with all the groomsmen, and I told him he could stand with the girls.

We had our lives planned together, and I never thought I’d have to see us fade away from each other.

We try to talk as much as possible, but with his ridiculous sleep schedule mixed with his work life and time zones, it’s mostly scattered snapchats that keep us from forgetting what the other person looks like.

A tradition growing up was going to his house for the end of the year cookout. When we were little we would play in the pool, seeing who could collect the most shark toys and torpedoes that we launched into the bottom, and as we got older it turned into chicken fights, then us floating around the pool, asking each other questions about life.

“Do you ever think about what would happen if your husband didn’t like me?” he had asked me on a sunny day in Massachusetts when we were 16.

“Yeah,” I said, dragging my hand through the water to cool myself down. “I’d tell him to fuck himself, and if he doesn’t love my best friend like a brother, then I want no part of him. You’ll always come first.”

He gave me that classic, cheesy grin of his and then splashed a wave of water against me, knocking me from my float.

He’s not coming this year. He’s busy at work in LA. I can feel him drifting away.

As I help his parents set up some of the food trays, I hear their side door open by the kitchen. I don’t bother looking up, knowing guests have been coming and going all day. It isn’t until two arms wrap around me from behind that my eyes shoot open.

“Miss me?”

Chris.

I spin around, staring at him with my jaw dropped. I can see his mom out of the corner of my eye, smiling at us. She must have known about this. I’m sure he told his mom.

“Oh my god,” is all I can bring myself to say. My eyes start to well with tears. I haven’t seen him since last Christmas. I missed his birthday. He missed me. Our times were always off.

He squeezed me as our bodies clung to each other. “Don’t cry, you’ll make me cry, Sunny.”

Sunny. The nickname he gave me when we were little, which came from Sunshine. We were 8, swinging on a playground. He had a bad day. We played together after school and he told me whenever he feels sad, his day always gets sunnier with me around. He always was able to make me feel loved and appreciated as his friend, and as we got older, that only grew.

I know he loves me. He just needed to chase his dream. That doesn’t mean he loves me any less than he ever did.

“I missed you so much,” he says, holding me even tighter than before.

“I missed your voice.”

“I’m sorry,” he says quickly. “I need to make an effort to call you more. I’m just so-“

“Busy,” I finish for him. “I know.”

His face falls. “Yeah.”

I don’t want him to feel bad for what he’s doing. He deserves something so amazing. He’s worked so hard for it.

“You’re here now though,” I smile. “Can we just pretend like you’ve been here and you never left?”

He smiles softly, nodding. “Yeah.”

I sit by his side for hours, smiling at him as he fills everyone in on what’s he’s been up to. He’s the talk of the town. Everyone is amazed to see him and his brothers do such big things.

Everyone erupts into laughter when Chris tells his stories, and when Matt and Nick add on more anecdotes, the house is filled with pure joy and love for these boys we watched grow up.

“I’m gonna get a drink,” Chris says, excusing himself. “You want anything?” he points to me.

“Whatever you get for yourself is fine,” I nod, adding on a thank you before he leaves.

He comes back with two Pepsi cans. I notice they’re already opened, but I don’t think anything of it. Knowing Chris, I fully expect him to have drank some of mine, and that’s him trying to be funny.

My face puckers at the taste of wine in my can.

He emptied the Pepsi out and poured wine in it instead.

He smiles next to me, trying not to laugh.

A memory of us from when we were 14 comes back to me, and I know that’s what he’s trying not to laugh about.

“Chris! We can’t take their wine!”

“My parents have like 20 bottles. They never drink. These are all Christmas gifts from other people. I promise they won’t notice,” he assured me.

I watched as he poured the glasses half full. It seemed like far too much.

“Try it,” he said, nudging a glass to me. “It’s disgusting.”

I took a hesitant sip. This was fucking awful, but I found myself drinking more at the idea of the thrill. We were doing something we weren’t supposed to, which made the alcohol taste even better.

A half hour later we were both stumbling up to his bedroom, and I managed to make it to the bathroom before throwing up, almost missing his toilet.

He held my hair back and apologized for giving me alcohol. He promised he wouldn’t tell anyone we drank. And he never did.

“Doesn’t taste as bad now, huh?” he asks, snapping me out of my memory.

I roll my eyes and take another sip. He’s right.

Once everyone leaves for the night, my family stays back to help Chris’ parents clean up, and my parents were offered a plethora of leftovers.

When Chris showed up, it was a no-brainer that I would be staying here tonight, so he led me upstairs while everyone else said their goodbyes.

“Shhh,” he hushed me as my giggles flooded the hallway. I’m definitely tipsy, but I’m completely coherent. I think most of my giggles come from the fact that he’s back in Boston. I’m just giddy and happy.

“Sorry!” I apologize anyway, even though he’s not bothered by the sound of my laughter. He smiles at it. He loves it.

He lays out a pair of pajamas for me like he always used to. It’s an old shirt from our high school with his lacrosse number on it, and a pair of his boxers.

I find myself thinking about the girls he had been with that were jealous of what I had with him. Me and Chris had never even kissed, so to think he would be accused of so much more with me was ridiculous. He never failed to stand up for me though. He could have the number one girl, someone perfect for him, and he’d say goodbye to him if they said one bad thing about me.

We will always be rooting for each other no matter what.

“Tomorrow we should actually do some stuff around town,” he says as he changes into something to sleep in. “I’ve been traveling all day and I’m so fucking tired. I just want to lay in bed.” He finishes his statement and flops down on the bed, laying his head next to my thighs.

“I really missed you, Chris. A lot,” I respond, ignoring his suggestion.

He sits up next to me, looking down at me in his clothing. “I know, Sunshine. I missed you just as much. More, probably.”

I felt safe with him again, a feeling that had been lost as we spent months and months apart. I craved moments like these, where we would stay up together and laugh.

The mood in his room shifts when he says, “What ever happened with you and Aaron?”

He knows what happened. I told him before I told anyone else.

He broke up with me with no explanation, and I was left heartbroken and confused. I wanted nothing more than a hug from Chris, but 3,000 miles kept that from happening.

“We’re not talking anymore,” I remind him. I really don’t want to be talking about boys right now, but it seems that’s the topic of conversation that is interesting to him most. “Any girls that have your attention in LA?”

He shrugs. “Not really. They’re cool, some are cute, but I don’t know. I don’t think I wanna do anything with any of them.”

Chris has always been very anti-relationships, but that never stopped him from having his fair share of fun. He always made sure they were on the same page that it was just benefits, sometimes not even friends. I am curious what turns him away from exploring with girls in LA. “Why not?”

“They just don’t have what I’m looking for. I want someone who understands me and what I want, but only a few people get that,” he explains. “I don’t know. I don’t want to waste my time with someone if I know from the jump that it feels like a waste. And I think about you, and how we are, and I don’t think I’ll ever be that close with anyone else. I don’t want to be. I don’t want to think about someone ever taking your place.”

“You can set limits,” I suggest. “But don’t keep yourself from meeting people because you’re worried about me feeling replaced. I won’t ever feel that way. I just want you to be happy.”

“Well, that’s not the only reason you’re a problem in it.”

There’s an ache in my chest at the thought of me being a part of a problem in his life.

“What?”

“I just– There have been issues before… in the past… where girls have felt threatened by you,” he says, looking down at his fingers, where he picks at the dead skin nervously. “That’s not your fault by the way. It’s dumb. I just… I don’t know.”

I pull his hands away from him. “I love you, Chris.”

He smiles at me and says, “I love you too.”

Somehow, his feels different.

I check the time on my phone, putting in beside me and announcing to him, “I’m gonna go to bed.”

Just like we always did, innocently of course, I placed the softest and quickest peck to his cheek closest to me.

I did this as a kid, mostly because Chris would freak out if his mom didn’t give him a kiss goodnight. He insisted that it kept the bad dreams away, and he would ask me to do the same for him when he spent the night at my house.

So I kissed his cheek like always.

I tried to.

But Chris moved his head.

His lips graze mine. There isn’t much contact, but there’s enough for me to know that we just kissed, barely.

He knows exactly what he just did, yet he’s looking at me like he’s shocked.

I’m not drunk, but maybe this is acting as liquid courage. That’s what I tell myself when I fully grab my best friend’s cheeks and press my lips to his. He lets out a deep breath against me, holding the back of my neck and fisting a handful of my hair.

What are we doing? I’m kissing my best fucking friend. My best friend of 15 years.

I’m lost in my own head, completely out of it until I feel him lay on top of me, pinning my arms over my head with one hand as he kisses down my neck with the other.

I lift my chin, giving him more room to kiss me.

He finishes placing wet kisses to my skin, then puts his lips back on mine. His full lips overtake mine, but we form a rhythm that has my chest tightening. He kisses me slowly, but the more tongue we add to the mix, the louder it sounds.

We make out for some time. I lose all track of it. I don’t even know if I’m in reality anymore. My hips aimlessly lift up to try to find something to create friction against. I almost forgot who I was kissing until he pulled back and said, “We’re entering dangerous territory here, Sunshine.”

“What do you want to do then?”

He falls silent, and I fully expect him to lay down next to me and pretend this never happened.

He does the opposite.

“I would never be doing this if it wasn’t something I had thought about for years.”

My heart feels like it’s pounding out of my chest.

Everyone who watched us grow up together is in this house.

And he’s pinning me down to the bed kissing me in the same room we used to play in.

“Then do something about it,” I taunt.

He loves this invitation.

Going zero to one hundred, Chris sits up, pulling his shirt off and tossing it beside me. I’ve seen him shirtless a million times. Hell, I’ve seen his bare ass. This is different though. So much different.

He puts his lips back on mine as his hands slide to the bare skin under my shirt. Without a second thought, I remove it, completely forgetting that I don’t have a bra on.

His eyes focus on my body, his jaw slacked and his cheeks turning red.

“Holy shit.”

I instinctively try to cover myself somehow. He grabs my arms and pulls them back down.

“No no,” he shakes his head. “Let me admire you, pretty girl.”

He kisses me softly down my chest, flicking his tongue over my nipples before sucking them into his mouth, all while he’s rubbing his hand on my inner thigh.

I shift my hips, positioning his hand right over where I need him the most. He stares up at me in awe as I give him this sign of approval, and without wasting any time, he dives his hand into the boxers around me. His underwear. I mimic his movements, dropping my hand through the waistband of his shorts and swiping my thumb over the tip of his hardened cock. He winces at my touch, gasping out of desperation.

“Please,” he whines. “Don’t start something you can’t finish. I’m begging you.”

I yank his shorts down, having the same reaction to his dick that he did to my boobs. I lay below him in shock, mostly baffled by the fact that he’s hung, but also the fact that we’re in this situation.

When he gets nervous from my staring, he places soft kisses to my lips again, like he’s trying to put my attention elsewhere.

“Sunshine,” he pants. “I can’t… If we’re gonna do this… I can’t wait,” he breathes out. “I need you now.”

I stroke him slowly, watching his stomach heave. “Have me then.”

In an instant he has my boxers and underwear on the floor in one fluid motion, spreading my legs and laying between them.

“Can’t believe you’ve been keeping this from me,” he whispers. He touches my dripping folds carefully, then licks his finger clean. “Fuck, you’re perfect. Always have been.”

I’m in my most vulnerable state. Not only am I naked in front of a man, but this is the guy who has watched me grow up. He has seen me through every stage of life, and now he’s about to be touching me, fucking me.

“Chris,” I say his name quickly, urgently, like I’m running out of time to say anything.

He looks down at me, pausing from where he was lining himself up between my legs.

I love you.

He smiles and says, “I know,” before putting my legs over his shoulders and pushing himself inside of me.

My fist clenches a nearby pillow as my body adjusts to him stretching me out. Chris gasps out in pleasure and shock from this entire experience. He drops his face into my neck, letting me hear his soft moans as he feels me clenching, throbbing around him.

When I give him the okay, he starts thrusting into me slowly, both of us silent, letting the sound of our skin finding each other ring in our ears.

I’m having sex with my best friend.

He places a kiss on my thigh, where it rests next to his face. Then, he pushes one of my legs out, spreading me open more.

“Fuck!” I cry out, the sound quickly masked by Chris’ mouth, where he places his lips over mine again to shut me up.

“Gotta be quiet, Sunny,” he warns me. I nod, and he puts his hand over my mouth, making sure I keep the volume down.

His dick hits every spot perfectly. His body clings to mine as our orgasms are in sight. I find myself begging for him, moaning his name, something I never would have expected from us.

Chris sits up on his knees, pressing my knees to my chest as he pounds into me, his face staring down with a dominant gaze, watching his dick fill me as my cum drips around him.

“Fuckkk,” he groans. “Such a dirty girl.”

All self control leaves me when I don’t bother hesitating as I respond with, “Yours.”

He nods, speeding up his pace. His thrusts become sloppier, much sloppier. “All fucking mine,” he reminds me, then pulls himself out of my pussy and strokes himself through his orgasm, letting himself finish on my lower stomach.

He quickly gets a towel and cleans me up before he places his head on my boobs. My hands dig into his hair, running my hands through his loose curls.

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, Sunshine, you know that?”

I smile to myself, but I also know that we completely fucked up us ever having a normal friendship after this.

My best friend and I fucked.

And he doesn’t do relationships.

“You’re my favorite,” I whisper back.

He places a kiss to my stomach, and I can feel the smile on his face when he does so.

I don’t smile. I know that with our decision tonight, we lost one side of our relationship.

We either become romantic and it gets fucked up and we lose a friendship too, or our friendship becomes awkward and crumbles because of this.

Neither of us thought about that before we got ourselves tangled up in each other, and I’m doing everything I can to forget about that fear and focus on the boy I’ve been in love with for years laying on my chest.

tag list: @secret-sturniolo @chrisloyalgf @strnilo @draculaura123 @jellybeanbby @qwertytit @55sturn @sleepysturnss @creamoncreamoncream2 @sturnvvz @swaggygirlboss123 @angelworldspost @patscorner @ducksturniolo @mattitties @luv4kozume @mbbsgf @freshloveforthefit @ripmattitude @gamermattsgf @strniololoverr @urmom2bitch @sturnitup @luvmila444 @st7rnioioss @sturniolosreads @pepsiskiess @alorsxsturn @sturniolopepsi @sturnsgasoline @sturns-posts@sstvrnioloo @strawberrymilk4k @ratatioulle @kiibichio @nickmillersn1gf @milesfordays11 @l9vesick @mattsturnzzz09 @mattnchrisworld

#sturniolo triplets #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo smut #sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you

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cosmignon · 8 months

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My absolute favorite thing about the Pikmin series after growing up only knowing it from smash bros is learning how much of a family man/wife guy Olimar is. I didn't even know he TALKED until like last year but now I would die for this tiny little family.

*blows a kiss down at the dirt* for Captain Olimar

(as a side note, I've experienced Pikmins 2,3, and 4 by watching the Frankenbugs Streams, which are very fun go check them out! Pikmin 4 playlist is here)

all image descriptions below cut:

ID #1: Various sketches of Olimar both in his normal state and leafified. As a leafling, Olimar is thinking "DANDORI" with the faint underlying thought "I miss my wife and kids". As a normal hocotatian Olimar is doing various things: leading his pikmin while thinking "Sometimes I wonder if the pikmin are just using me..." as the pikmin chant "dad, dad, dad" in their own language; holding a pikmin like a baby while thinking of his son and "Remember to support the neck"; Almost eating a pikmin in a tired stupor because he thinks it's a pikpik carrot, then hugging it and saying "SORRY! Sorry lil buddy my bad,," as other pikmin look on and "all want hugs now". End ID.

ID #2: Sketches of Olimar looking in a mirror and expressing surprise when he notices his hair is bright red, a lingering side-effect of being a leafling. He turns away and scratches his head as he mutters "...guess I have always told my wife I like redheads..." Additionally, sketches of leafling Olimar scratching his wife's face into the waxy exterior of a berry. End ID.

ID #3: A sketch of Olimar wearing classic disco clothes as he dances closer to his wife and a friend of hers. End ID.

ID #4: 2 sketches captioned by excerpts from Olimar's treasure entries in Pikmin 4. The first sketch is Olimar's wife wearing a hat, next to a screenshot of the berry the hat is based on, captioned "an uncanny resemblance to my wife wearing a hat." The second sketch is a younger Olimar (labled "smol Olimar, or smolimar") wearing a black leather jacket and subsequently getting extremely hot under the sun, captioned "turns out wearing a leather jacket during the peak of a Hocotate summer is a shortcut to getting a heat stroke." End ID.

ID #5: 4 sketches captioned by excerpts from Olimar's teasure entries in Pikmin 4. The first sketch is Olimar and his wife dressed for their wedding day, happily gazing up at an extravagent space themed wedding cake, captioned "At our wedding, our friends gave my wife and me a spaceship-shaped cake that looked a lot like this one." The second sketch is Olimar and his wife sitting on a suspended porch swing as his wife holds their swaddled newborn, captioned "When my first child was born, my wife and I would sit outside in the warm spring weather and take turns rocking him in our arms." The third sketch is Olimar's son as a baby honking his big nose, captioned "But once he knew the distinctive shape of my nose, he recognized me right away." The fourth sketch is Olimar's family playing Monopoly, his wife obviously being the leading player of the game while his children watch Olimar struggle to keep up, captioned "This pattern always reminds me of our family game nights." End ID.

#pikmin #pikmin 4 #pikmin 4 spoilers #captain olimar #thefinearts

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keerysfreckles · 4 months

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luke being protective🤗🤗🤗i’m a sucker for protective guys bye

jealousy — luke castellan

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite fem!reader

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, luke being an asshole (not to reader), unwanted flirting, slight cursing

a/n: sorry to anyone name aiden..

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

ever since percy jackson arrived at camp half-blood, there hasn't been a new camper in months. some campers liked the peace of not worrying about which cabin the newbie would join. others missed the excitement the new camper brought to the sometimes dull camp.

the end of summer was going normal for the campers, counselors, and camp directors, until aiden mckinnan stepped foot in the camp.

everyone seemed off when they were around him.

no one could understand why, until the bonfire at the end of the night.

all the campers were seated around the large growing fire. stories were being told, smores were being eaten, and laughs were being shared. luke was in the middle of telling silena and y/n how percy made everyone laugh in archery training, however he was interrupted by someone whistling in their direction.

"damn! aphrodite really knows how to make hotties!"

the trio turned at the unexpected voice. it was aiden. he still hasn't been claimed by his godly parent, so luke was the lucky counselor who had to watch him until he got claimed.

y/n and silena awkwardly glanced at each other, while luke glared daggers at aiden.

"what do you want aiden?" luke questioned.

"just wanted to appreciate this goddess," aiden sat down next to y/n, making luke glare at him ten times harder.

y/n let out a nervous laugh, "i- uh- thank you?"

"why don't you and me go by the lake and hang out," y/n hated the emphasis aiden put on the 'hang out' part.

y/n glanced between luke and silena before responding, "sorry, i have a boyfriend."

aiden chuckles, "i don't see him anywhere princess."

luke leaned forward to look at aiden, making y/n stuck in the middle of a brewing testosterone fight.

"her boyfriend's right here," luke states coldly, placing his arm around y/n's shoulders, only making her lean into him.

aiden laughs obnoxiously, "you're with him?" he laughs louder, "oh sweetheart you could do so much better."

before y/n can respond, luke beats her to it, "why don't you just leave man? we were having a nice time before you showed up."

aiden rolled his eyes, but reluctantly left the trio and went back to his own small group of friends. silena started talking about something that happened at lunch, trying to distract the three from what had just happened. it worked well, and now they were all laughing again.

luke couldn't help but shoot a few death glares at aiden from across the fire, and he moved his hand down to y/n's waist. y/n knew luke was still angry over what aiden had said, so she simply leaned over and kissed his cheek. that easily calmed him, and luke leaned over to place a kiss on her temple.

"you guys are so cute, it's disgusting," clarisse laughs while walking by, carrying a tray of smores supplies for her and her cabin. luke simply flips her off, before listening to silena again.

#shelbi writes #keerysfreckles #luke castellan #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan x fem reader #luke castellan x fem!reader #luke castellan x y/n #luke castellan x you #luke castellan imagine #luke castellan pjo #pjo #pjo show #pjo tv #pjo tv show #pjo books #percy jackson #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians show

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wifeofasith · 6 months

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Warnings — SEX POLLEN, dub-con, Master x Padawan, power imbalance, intoxication, abuse of authority, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of pain, brief nipple play, brief fingering, degrading if you squint, pet names, praise, swearing...

Word count — 3.3k

Notes — Thank you, Anon for the request! This is the first time I write a fic this length, I hope it's enjoyable! I truly hope I didn't miss any warnings; it's currently past 3am and my head is fried.

“You know this is completely unnecessary; you are overexaggerating…” Anakin complains as you wrap a thick linen rope around his wrists, securing your master in place. “I swear, I’m fine. Look,” He leans forward, putting his face on display. So close, you could feel his soft breath on the tip of your nose.

You inspect his eyes, deep blue eyes with slightly dilated pupils; if it were somebody else, they wouldn’t have seen a difference, but you… Oh, you were different. You knew his eyes a little bit too well for just a Padawan, and you were certain: something was wrong. You could sense his heart pumping blood through his veins a little bit too fast, his irregular breathing, you spotted things he failed to notice about himself. Maybe all those stolen glances at his undeniably gorgeous face and broad body will pay off, giving you something else than just fantasy material for all the lonely nights.

“No.” You reply bluntly. “I’m sorry, master.” You tie a last knot around his wrists. You wanted to explain; tell him all the things you sensed were different: the way his gaze twisted when landing on your body, the way he squirmed just slightly as you bind his limbs together, the way he… Smelled. It wasn’t just a regular Anakin scent, no. It was sweeter, almost milky, and it made you want to burry your face into his skin, so naturally, you could never reveal your reasoning.

Anakin sighed, leaning his back against the remains of your spaceship, his tied hands resting on top of his lap, hiding the slowly-forming tightness you both failed to notice. He could swear everything was perfect. Well, aside from the fact that you both were left stranded on an unknown planet and after hours of wandering in search of life and help, you ended up back at the crash site.

“You realize I would never hurt you, right?” He stares at you, visible annoyance present on his features. “There is nothing wrong with me, I didn’t even touch anything unknown.”

He was right; he touched nothing. He… Inhaled it. And (un)fortunately neither of you knew.

“I know….” You look into his eyes pleadingly, trying to convince him to stay put in case he goes on some kind of rampage that your whole body senses is coming. You wanted to deny your gut feeling, but the gleam in his eyes told you it was a bad idea.

Time passes slowly, and Anakin is growing more and more impatient as he watches your failing attempts to fix the transmitter and possibly reach someone.

“Give me that.”

You stare at him from a short distance, thinking whether it’s smart to approach him, but your doubts are quickly wiped away when that sweet scent reaches the inside of your lungs with the help of a soft breeze. You stand up and bring him the broken device.

Anakin grabs your hand instead and pulls you down to your knees in front of him. Your face meets his with a surprised stare, and before you can complain about the invasion of your space, he speaks.

“When I tell you to do something, you do it. Fast.” His stare is intense, and he holds your hand tightly in his restricted grip. “Got it?”

“Yes, M-master.” You stutter, stunned by his sudden change of demeanor; you can’t even move. And the worst part is that he smells even better this close.

“Good girl.” He keeps staring into your eyes, grasping your hand as if he doesn’t intend to let it go. “Maker, you are such a pretty thing, I could tear you apart…” He contemplates out loud, his words surprising the last part of his sane mind as he’s becoming more and more vulnerable to foreign planet’s drugs.

“What?”

He slowly frees your hand, swallowing a lump in his throat. He’s starting to feel it — pants failing to hide a very prominent arousal, mouth watering at the sight of your cleavage, you look fucking scrumptious; and he needs to devour you. He snaps his head to the side.

“Sorry.” Anakin mutters, seemingly regaining some of his senses. He shifts on the ground as you stare at him dumbfounded, not only because of his sudden vulgarity but also because the outline of his dick was now very visible and your eyes couldn’t help but glance.

“Master?”

He groans. “Don’t say that.” He shamelessly palms himself in front of your eyes as if he were in pain from how tight his underwear was. “Don’t call me master. Not now, sweetheart.” His voice softens just for a moment.

“Master, are you okay?” You deny his request. Involuntary. Maybe because it was a habit, or maybe because some part of you really wanted him to get unbearably hard for you.

He yanks you towards himself with his sluggish grip. Tied hands wrap around your throat, and he hisses. “I fucking mean it. You call me that again. I’m going to bend you over this wreck of a spaceship and bruise your insides until someone finally comes and gets us off this forsaken planet.”

If you weren’t surprised before, you are now absolutely bewildered. You pushed him away, landing on your butt and quickly crawling reversely to create some space between yourself and the animal that possessed your master’s body.

Anakin stood up and leaned himself against the wreckage as if trying to fight something that’s been trying to claw its way out of his body. His back turned to you, shoulders rising up and down repeatedly as he struggled to speak.

“Go. Now.” He groans, trying to hold his panting in.

“Anakin?” You rise yourself from the ground and take a step towards him, hesitating to move or speak more.

“Fucking RUN.” A growl slips from his throat; you’ve never heard such an animalistic sound coming from him. It wasn’t an order; it was a warning, a head start for you. And if there was a perfect time to listen to his advice about doing everything he’s telling you — that was it.

So you do.

You feel the wind blowing through your ears and burning your throat as you try to get away as far from Anakin as possible. Your pulse is thudding rapidly, your limbs are shaking, and yet your insides are throbbing, aching to have relief from the extreme arousal created by your master’s primal behavior and the image of his hardening cock imprinted in your head.

You turn your head slightly, glancing behind you, expecting to see Anakin making his way towards you, but instead you are greeted with the sight of nobody. Anakin’s nowhere to be seen. You look around, panting heavily, trying to spot movement somewhere between the trees. You fear him and what he could do to you, but the fact that he’s gone frightens you even more. Your master could never hurt you, right?

“Master?!” Your voice echoes through what seems to be an empty grove of an unrecognized planet. The only sound you can hear is your own breathing, and you realize how loud it is, how easy it is for any predator to hear you. Anakin's hunt was simple when his prey served herself on the plate before him.

A gust of wind passed through your ears at the same moment as Anakin’s hands gripped you from behind and harshly pushed your quivering body against a tree nearby. His wrists bruised red from the rope, which he seems to have torn apart. Your vision blurs for a moment from the force he’s grabbed you with. His lips press on your ear.

“I told you not to call me that, you stupid girl. Now look what you’ve done.” He whispers into your ear as his bulge presses against your ass.

“A-Anakin-” You whimper, miserably trying to push him off you but instead just creating more friction on his already painful core.

His hand snakes into your robes, grasping your breast roughly, making your back arch. It’s hot and desperate to tear your flesh apart. And it feels so so good. So pathetically good that you almost feel like you’re the one taking advantage of him and not the other way around. He toys with your nipple, rubbing it between his fingers as his free hand grabs onto your thigh and presses your body onto his clothed cock.

“S’ alright, sweetheart… Your body’s so perfect…” He sinks his teeth into your neck and pulls on your delicate skin. “I’m so sorry—fuck—Sweetheart… I can’t stop-” His soft voice was a complete contrast to his forceful grip on your curves. His hands boldly groped you, kneading every bit of your body he could reach — all while grinding himself against you like an animal in heat.

“No- You can’t,” You whimper, trying to fight him and your own desire. “Anakin!” You gasp in pain when he presses your body into the tree, bruising your cheek.

“Shhhh… ‘s alright, just let me—” He pulls your robes, his hand making its way down your stomach, cupping your dripping heat. He inhales into your neck. “Don’t be scared.” He shushes your whines.

And it’s not like you’ve never imagined Anakin fucking you; you have. Way more than you should have, and yet you were shaking in fear, especially knowing that he was under the influence of something wicked.

“No, master-” You gasp as he inserts a finger inside you, wasting no time before fucking you with his hand. “S-stop-”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry-” He whimpers into your shoulder as your walls clenches around his digit. He slips another in. “What a perfect cunt… I’ll fucking ruin it." It was almost as if Anakin’s alter ego was overtaking his normal self — the one who would never dare to touch his Padawan like that, to taint her precious body with his pathetic touch.

“Ah!” Your back arched into him involuntarily. It was wrong. So so wrong and yet deep inside you never wanted him to stop, not when your walls spasmed around him for a sweet release.

“That’s it, good girl, come here.” He pulls his fingers out, making you pulse and whimper at the lack of pleasure. He quickly lands you both on the ground, spreading your thighs apart for himself. “Look at that,” He bites his lower lip. “And you say you don’t want it? You’re fucking soaked.”

“We can’t-” You whimper yet again. “You wouldn’t- Ah!”

He grins as he slaps his cock against your clit, rubbing it up and down your entrance as the wet, slippery sound reaches your ears.

“I’m going to fuck you one way or another, so you just might as well enjoy it, after all…” He leans on top of you, lining the crown of his cock with your hole. “…master knows best.”

He slides in with one swift movement, filling you to the brim as you claw his back with your nails. He’s big, way bigger than his fingers, forcing your walls to stretch wide open to welcome both his length and girth. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust much when he pulls almost all the way out and slams back in, earning a loud whimper from you.

“Pretty girl…” He coos, stroking your cheek as he repeats the movement more urgently. “Master’s cock feels good, hm?”

It did, Maker; it felt amazing. Every vein bruised your gushing hole just right as he thrusted into you, long and powerful strokes, head hitting your cervix at the perfect angle to make your toes curl. Each time his sack slapped against your ass, an electric sting flashed through your cunt, forcing a pathetic moan out of your mouth. Your vision is so blurry from how hard you are rolling your eyes back, you don’t even see how Anakin comes forward and presses his lips onto yours.

His kiss is starving, depraved of you. He tries to say something, but it’s pretty incoherent, muffled by your saliva mixing with his. He tugs on your lips, sticking his tongue far up your mouth, smearing spit over your chin. His teeth clash against yours every time he attempts to reach into you deeper, as if trying to devour you from the inside out.

“Fuck,”—thrust—”So…”—thrust—”Fucking…”—thrust—-”Tight-” He moans into your mouth, and you swear you can feel his whimpers inside your body.

Anakin props himself up on his forearms — each on the other side of your face. He snakes his fingers into your hair, making you look at him.

“Look at me, baby. Look at me, and tell me you love it. Beg me to fuck you, come on, baby…”

He’s a mess, and he’s messing you up too; he wants you to plead, but there is no reason to; he’s already balls deep in you, abusing parts of your body nothing and nobody has ever reached before.

“M-master…” A feeble whimper is all your body can muster when your whole lower half twitches from pleasure. “…Stop...” You claw on his chest, trying to push him off, maybe because you know how sick it is to allow him to turn you into a drooling cockslut, or maybe because you don’t want to cum so fucking soon.

“What’s the matter, angel? You wanna cum, yeah?” A wicked smile spreads across his face, as if he were listening to all of your thoughts while you laid there spread open. “Yeah? Your little cunt can’t take master’s cock at all, hmmm?” He mocks you, and you know you deserve it, for one reason or another.

His filthy words and a couple of powerful strokes are enough to have your juices coating his whole shaft as your back arches and hardened nipples rub against his chest. The orgasm he’s giving you blinds your mind; it drowns out every other noise that’s not his moans of pleasure or your wetness spurting around him.

“Thought so.” He laughs in your face, gripping the backs of your thighs and pushing them up — his cock still inside you, soaking up all you had to give it. “That’s alright, angel, it’ll hurt less now that you’re all stretched out and drenched.”

“N-no…” You cry when he adjusts your position to reach deeper into you, seemingly not even caring that your soaked walls are still aching from him fucking you over the edge just moments ago. “A-Ani…” It’s a bittersweet pleasure — the way he keeps going through your body desperately, trying to push him out and stop the ache inside of you.

“Look,” He releases his grip on your thigh and grabs your chin. “Look how perfect your little cunt is…” He slides all the way out and slowly pushes back in, his pubic hair tickling your skin. “As if it’s made to take me.” He forces your head to look down between your bodies and admire the mess he’s creating.

The more he sees you struggle to look without squirming, the more precise his movements are. He angles his painfully thick cock to scratch your spongy insides, your throbbing cunt squeezing him enough to force delicious grunts out of his mouth.

Your eyes are blurry from the tears you didn’t know formed; you blink rapidly, attempting to catch a glimpse of Anakin’s face. You were self-evident about the desperate mess he’s turned you into, drenched in sweat and cum, your body sore and bruised, it was obvious, however, you didn’t expect Anakin to be as disheveled as well. His lips were apart, soaked in spit, the blue of his eyes barely visible from the expansion of the pupils, dirty locks sticking to his forehead, your master looked and, quite obviously, behaved like a brute beast devouring his prey. And yet, he was angelic.

Your idealization of Anakin was the root reason why you resisted digging his eyes out with your nails and putting up a violent fight against him for corrupting your body inside and out. Because, essentially, Anakin is still your master. The one who teaches you, the one who tends your wounds, the one who is now currently fucking you over your second orgasm with no mercy in his bloodshot orbs. And honestly, you are starting to genuinely enjoy it.

“Just like that, pretty girl, keep squeezing me…” Anakin presses his lips against yours, forcing his tongue in and making you answer his desperate kiss. One of your legs is stretched up painfully, foot dangling over his shoulder, while the other almost involuntary wraps around him and makes sure he’s plunging deep into you with no chance of escaping. “Good girl, that’s it,” He moans into your mouth, “I’m going to cum, yeah, s’ like that, let me fill that tight cunt.”

“P-please…” You reach for his head, grabbing him by the roots of his hair to lock your lips back together. “Master- fuuuuuck!” There it is again — you are cumming all over his cock, slurping onto his tongue while milking him to his own orgasm. You can barely see or make sense of your surroundings; all you know is that he’s pounding you into oblivion, and you love every second of being stretched out for your master to use.

Anakin is grabbing your body, toying with your flesh. Even when his dick starts to fuck long threads of his thick cum into you, he can’t stop frantically abusing your body in every way possible; grabbing, biting, kissing, and fucking all come at the same time, sending your body into a sensory overload, and you can swear you are about to lose your mind and die right there and then.

But there is no time for dying, not when you realize Anakin has emptied himself deep inside you and yet is nowhere close to stopping. His cock, still hard, surrounded by the mix of your and his cum, is slamming into you with sensual yet forcible strokes, making it seem like you can taste the sourness of his release in your mouth.

“So needy, going to make sure to fuck it deep in you, angel.” He whispers into your neck, you can’t help but whimper and dig your nails into his shoulder blades in hopes of him easing up on you, but he only pulls his face off your shoulder and greets you with a filthy grin. “If I knew how beautiful your fucked-out expressions and little whimpers were, I would have devoured this pretty pussy much earlier…”

“M-master…” You cry out for help, for pleasure, for him. Everything ceases to exist except Anakin. His expression softens just for a moment. He settles his cock inside of you and reaches out to wipe the mess of drool and tears from your cheek.

“It’s okay, my sweet Padawan." He whispers, his hands gently caresses your hipbones in a subconscious attempt to soothe your aching muscles. Anakin leans down to kiss your lips one more time. You can feel his whole length throbbing and begging for friction while the wetness of your releases seeps down your cunt. “I know you can take more, yeah? Just like when we train, alright? You want to stop…”—Thrust—”But I’m the Master…”

Your eyes roll back when your sex is rewarded with a glimpse of more pleasure, a little promise of what he can give you if you just enjoy it like he’s commanded you. So you buck your hips into him, seeking yet another release.

“There she is…” Anakin’s deranged expression makes its way back between his perfect features. To your surprise, he swiftly pulls himself out of you, which makes you whine from the lack of fullness and feeling of the mix of liquids trickling down your body. “Let’s see how useful your other holes are, mmm?”

And with that, you know — whatever he’s infested with still has yet to wear off.

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puddingyun · 3 months

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tone . ݁₊ ⊹ k.hj

hongjoong x reader

18+ mdni

: 985 words, smut, auralism/voice kink, fingering, some dirty talk :

day 5 of fff24 (catching up since i got sick (╥ᆺ╥；)) ♡

"I'm sorry I'm so late, baby."

Hongjoong's voice pulled you out of the light sleep you'd fallen into. A smile played on your lips as you felt your boyfriend crawl into bed behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist to pull you close.

"I got so caught up I didn't realise what time it was," he whispered. He didn't sound sleepy at all, even though when you opened your eyes to squint at your phone the screen displayed a staggering 3:00 AM. You hummed softly as one of Hongjoong's hands slid up your pyjama top to rest against your stomach. "I'm sorry for waking you up."

"It's okay. Your feet are cold," you mumbled, which made Hongjoong giggle behind you. He pressed a soft kiss to the back of your neck and tangled his feet even more with yours, pulling you both flush together. "Keep talking, Joongie."

"Okay," Hongjoong murmured, his fingers moving back and forth against your skin. "I missed you all day. Missed hearing you talk, and your footsteps around the apartment. I kept wondering what you were up to. What did you get up to, hon?"

Your mind was so fuzzy from listening to Hongjoong talk that you almost forgot to reply.

"Uhm," you stalled, pressing your thighs together as you tried to remember what you did while Hongjoong was out. "I finished some work in the morning after you left and in the afternoon I watched a movie... Some supernatural thing, like a rip-off of The Ring."

"Just a typical day, huh?" Hongjoong hummed, stretching his fingers out to let his pinky rest beneath the waistband of your panties. When you mumbled out a soft 'uh-huh', Hongjoong exhaled quietly, amused by your sleepy voice. You felt butterflies fill your stomach at the sound of it. "Mine was the same, just finishing things up and brainstorming new- hey, baby, why're you squirming so much?"

"Nothing," you huffed softly, though you could feel your cheeks heating up when he called you out. Hongjoong grunted, a small sound that told you he didn't really believe your reply, and then sighed so that his breath fanned out over the back of your neck. "Just finish telling me about your day?"

"Okay, well... I've been picking up the guitar more often. Maybe tomorrow I'll show you the songs I've learned," he rambled on, not pausing to mention the way you were almost constantly shifting your thighs, seeking friction to accompany the warmth growing between your legs at the sound of Hongjoong's voice. "...I was going to get an energy drink but one of the staff members kept going on about how they aren't good for you so I ended up getting a coffee instead. But then later on I saw Wooyoungie with one and nobody was telling him to be careful so I don't know what that was about."

You made a non-committal sound in response, trying to pretend like you were listening when in reality Hongjoong's words were all getting muddled in your head, blurred around the edges and scratching an itch you hadn't noticed was there.

"Baby?" Hongjoong's voice called softly.

"Hm?" you replied, pouting at his voice coming to a stop even if it was just to call you a petname.

"Are you getting off on this?" he asked, and this time you could hear a smirk in his voice. You stuttered, trying to come up with a believable answer, but Hongjoong cut you off with a giggle. "It's okay. You're cute. Want me to finish telling you about my day?"

You paused, weighing up your embarrassment against your desire to deal with the sudden wave of arousal so you could get back to sleep. Eventually, the latter won out, and you relaxed in Hongjoong's hold again.

"Yes please," you murmured, feeling like you were asking for a bedtime story. Hongjoong's lips pressed against your shoulder in a feverish kiss before he resumed his earlier ramblings.

This time, as he spoke, his hand slowly moved beneath your panties. When his fingers came into contact with the wetness on your lips his breath hitched momentarily, then his fingers began rubbing circles against your clit with just enough pressure to make your breathing uneven.

"And then we had a meeting to try on some new stage outfits, they got us fitted and everything... The colours seemed sorta off to me but they said that under the stage lights and all of that it'd look fine," he mumbled, his voice slowly becoming rougher around the edges as your arousal became more evident. Your shaky breaths turned into hushed moans, skin tingling everywhere that Hongjoong touched and the pool of arousal in your stomach getting dangerously close to spilling over.

You felt two of his fingers press into you, and as he bent them inside of you his palm rubbed against your clit, making you groan into your pillow. A soft nip to your shoulder made you gasp, Hongjoong's teeth digging into your skin hard enough to leave a mark.

"You're so fucking cute. I come home and don't even say anything dirty to you and here you are, making a mess on my fingers," he mumbled against your skin, his fingers picking up their pace. "All I have to do is talk to you about my day and you're rubbing your thighs together trying to get off. You're so fucking precious."

The way the curse word rolled off of his tongue was enough to push you over the edge, clenching around his fingers as you came hard. Behind you Hongjoong trailed a line of kisses along your skin, lips curved into a smile the whole time.

Once your breathing had slowed back down Hongjoong gave your waist a tight squeeze.

"Let me get you some water baby," he whispered, kissing your temple as he got up. "Then I'll let you get back to sleep."

#pirateeznet #joongfryefff24 #kim hongjoong x reader #kim hongjoong smut #ateez smut #ateez x reader

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neteyamsilly · 1 year

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i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 2

summary ;; Your burning determination to prove your father wrong and Jake's wish to teach you a lesson both end up in a pyrrhic victory. PART 1 | PART 3 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; im speechlessly overwhelmed at the sheer amount of love you guys showed me these past couple of days. like. literally never had something like this happen to me before. i got too excited to finish this chapter to give back to yall, there was an attempt to proofread but... i hope it's not too bad, please enjoy! as always, if you see any mistakes, im sorry!

The path further into the floating mountains was all the worse to navigate thanks to the lack of light, the only useful guides you had were the faintly flickering bioluminescent lights from the forest deep below. The branches twisting around each other to create a naturally built bridge from mountain to mountain benefited from this, contrasting as a clear obscured line to your eyes against the glow underneath.

The easiest part of your journey, in hindsight, was just skipping along this line.

You weren’t exactly happy about this.

The more you left behind, the more you were freaked out that Neteyam or anyone else was onto your intentions already and hot on your trail right this moment. Imagining father making a beeline to you in the air with Bob, a cruel, merciless whistling arrow, made you all jittery and almost puking kind of nervous, pulling at the depths of your stomach.

Your rationality told you that it was a half an hour walk to your spot from the tent, and Neteyam would be hurrying the more he thought he wasn’t able to catch up with you along the way, so you had around twenty minutes until the whole family was panicking and raising the clan to look for you.

Tuk had gone missing once thanks to some hide and seek game with Lo’ak (she’d hidden so well and was waiting for her siblings to find her already, blindly sticking to the game for an entire day, not out of stubbornness but childish purity), and this was exactly what had gone down —

the resentful part of you questioned if father thinks of you highly enough to resort to that.

If something happened to you, he would maybe urge your brothers to search for you for a while, and drop it then — leaving you to your own devices happily.

Maybe.

Were you even worth it in his eyes for a search party? You wondered if he cared enough that you disappeared.

But that was a stupid, childish thought you knew you fantasized about a lot — perhaps this was why he’d called you immature. This was no mindset for a strong, independent, confident hunter. The thought father was right, even a miniscule bit was bitter on your tongue, worse than what he called black coffee.

Disappearing so you’d find out just how much he cared was unfair to mom, for one.

She had lost so much in such a short amount of time, the stories she sang poignantly about were hard to listen to without tearing up. Her home. The trees of voices, all the lost ancestors. Her father. Uncle Tsu’tey. Her first ikran, Seze. Loss upon loss you think there’d be nothing left to give anymore, but sky people’s fire was always hungry, always willing to waste more to grow bigger.

You wouldn’t forgive yourself for making her cry in your pursuit to punish father. Never.

You weren’t a child.

Just wanted to be one, sometimes.

Wanted father to babytalk you, pet your head longer than a passing touch as he walked away hurriedly to attend to other matters, make beads for your braids the way he always did from pretty stones he found on ponds, carve you little trinkets when you graciously had to give up your toys to Lo’ak and Kiri’s greed.

Your neck piece was all them in fact, he’d see it if he ever paid enough attention, or perhaps it was all insignificant to him, five kids meant countless belongings for each individual child had been passed down from his hands, it would be a miracle for father to recognize you still wore his clumsy creations. But again, it had been too long since he’d even looked at you affectionately, he wouldn’t See.

He’d transferred those habits entirely to Neteyam at one point in time.

Your older brother would always ruffle Lo’ak’s hair and tease him the way father used to, comfort him in his own playful way, and even though the younger looked discontent at being babied, you knew he was happy Neteyam was quite literally his shadow to look after him through tough times — including shielding from father’s line of fire. In return, he was suffering from being a foil to the older son, you understood the struggle because you were going through the same comparison, you just weren’t obsessed with catching and living up to father as much as Lo’ak did.

Win some, lose some, I guess.

Plus, Neteyam was trembling under the massive planet-weight pressure, he had to set the standard, he had to live up to the older brother title. He was becoming more of a father figure to Tuk as days passed and the Olo’eyktan became more transparent from his family’s life as a dad to five.

Besides, Lo’ak made trouble enough for two people to go around that you felt bad for your big brother, Kiri was thankfully more mellow (despite frequently hanging out together with him and Spider) compared to him that Neteyam could breathe, not having to divide his attention.

You were in awe of her about how disconnected she was from all the changing dynamics. She had her own problems you could never understand, more spiritual than your grandmother, and ever the ethereal soul who you thought would disappear into Eywa if flesh wasn’t holding her down to Eywa’eveng.

You were the teeniest, tiniest bit jealous of her (and Tuk) holding the softer sides of father, the boys thought he was deliberately softer because they were girls — but you were also a girl, so why weren’t you allowed in?

Well, thanks to that, you’d gotten closer with Neteyam and known him better after the whole clan had settled on High Camp, so it wasn’t all that bad. You could badmouth father all day long sitting on some rock and make him laugh abashedly, guilty that he was smiling along with the trashing of the father’s name he respected so much — it was therapy, as Norm had taught humans frequently sought back on earth. It got you trying some things with Neteyam, becoming more of a companion and ranting buddy for him who he could be honest and open with, so that he didn’t have to worry about taking up a larger role in your life to fill father’s missing presence. You were concerned about him more than he could be concerned about you.

That got you contemplating if father had noticed how comfortable his two oldest children were with each other that it was always Neteyam who he sent after you. A girl could dream, no? For one moment, it wasn’t because it was Neteyam’s responsibility, but because father was paying attention to how his kids got along.

The image of him pushed you to be frantically fast to reach your destination as the fear returned with might. If he caught you right now when you had no ikran to prove him wrong, the punishment he was sure to give would be way more humiliating, you at least wanted something in your name to taunt him with if you were going down anyways.

A smile crept up your face at imagining him discombobulated and speechless, unable to pick out one thing that you did wrong.

The carelessness that came with your speed combined with how dark it was to see where to clutch and put your feet on caused you to slip up countless times when climbing, the sharp rocks scraping the insides of your palms and insides of your forearms, lifting your skin up. What you cared about more than the pain was that the blood was now tracking material for your family to sniff you out — you couldn’t exactly wipe the rocks clean, so you carried on with a hammering heart, more afraid of father ruining your perfect moment than whatever ikran that would soon be going straight for your throat.

At least you were able to wash the blood off your hands in the waterfall.

Downside? You couldn’t see shit. With your bare back flushed straight to the wall of rock and your feet feeling out the thin edge, the shrill cry of ikrans and the roaring of water was about to overwhelm your senses too much to pay attention —

and you slipped.

The shriek that ripped out of you at the sensation of falling and the drop of your stomach alone almost made you pass out, and for a split second it was a good thing that you wouldn’t feel the moment you died, but your body, once again, was one step ahead of you, it twisted in the air the last second and your hands gripped the ledge.

The wet rock and your blood made all that your life was hanging on slippery as you dangled into the abyss, swaying with the strong winds at this height.

You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or the nervousness, but something made you laugh out loud, and the bubbling laughter continued until you were able to pull yourself up safely at the ikran rookery, finally.

Looking around like a fish out of water, how you hadn’t cracked your skull open shooting down to the forest below was a total miracle.

You’d made it?

No one was there to witness what you just pulled off in total darkness. Your whole body was shaking, and you weren’t even chosen by an ikran yet. This was happening. Shit. This was totally happening!

Your excited and terrified, “Hell yeah!” went unheard apart from your aerial crowd.

But.

One among them answered your holler with its own that cut into the night like a battle horn. It was the closest one to you that was apparently watching you the whole time, starting to roar at you and twitching on its feet, shadow in the night informing you of its movements.

You’d seen from Neteyam and Lo’ak’s iknimayas that you only had a few seconds to pull your shit together until it attacked, this was meant to be dangerous, serious, you could end up as a late night snack to them if things went wrong, but you couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear that it had chosen you.

You were chosen.

It wanted you as its rider.

If only father could see you now. The sensation of being the one — being special was unmatched. Now you could somehow get the fraction of the high he must have felt as Toruk Makto.

The, “Let’s fucking go!” that left you kept echoing into the night as you lunged at it, dodging to the left when it snapped at your head, hooking one arm around the ikran’s slender neck and clamping your legs around it the moment it started thrashing around wildly.

You didn’t know why father had made a big deal out of it. You formed tsaheylu in no time, breaking Neteyam’s record — and you didn’t even have the rope to hoop around its neck and jaw.

Firstborn daughter excellence.

Confidence restored and triumphing wildly to the pulse of your heart, the flickering smile on your face in wonder turned into a full-fledged smirk. At that moment, nothing mattered. It was just you and your victory. Proving father wrong.

Feeling the ikran’s lifeforce through the bond, a shiver went down your back as his beady eye looked up at you, pupil shrinking and expanding rapidly while you both took a minute to catch your breaths after the fierce wrestling.

“Gotcha,” you panted. “You’re mine now.”

The adrenaline made everything sparkle and shine, your spirits soaring high and unbothered about literally anything else in the world, and for one glorious moment, lost in the memories of your brothers’ iknimayas boasting with cheers from the clan and sometimes encouraging, sometimes fearful screams of your parents, your spirit sought them out to be soaked in the same pride — forgetting that it was night and nobody was there to celebrate you.

You were all alone.

The smile dropped from your face and crashed down like paper thin porcelain upon the slightest movement.

Right.

You’d forgotten you were doing this out of spite. It snuffed every twinkle of magic away from the previously shimmering milestone of your life.

Your ikran felt the crushing disappointment through your connection and chirped at you, almost like an excited sibling pulling on your arm to show you something, weirdly comforting. Mom’s ikran was a spitfire, but also nurturing — this one felt different somehow, you felt him bouncing from wall to wall in your head, hyperactive and cheerful.

Flying! He wanted to fly!

The first flight sealed the bond, after all.

You weren’t alone even if none of your family members were here to share the joy — you had your new buddy. And the drop of gravity was thrilling this time, not the terrifying chaos that had your asshole shriveling up as it was when you’d missed your step.

The flights with mom were something you looked forward to, drying up in frequency as you aged, you’d missed the wind on your body and the greenery dancing below as you maneuvered in the air — but mom reserved nighttime rides for father only, and after the move to High Camp, the skimpering chance you could get your way if you begged cutely enough was gone too. You’d never flown at night.

The sight was out of this world. The stars leaving a glowing trail above you, the forest pulsing with faint purple, green and blue lights underneath, everything was elevated in beauty because darkness let them shine.

You made loops in the air with your ikran, got as high in the air as you could before your breath thinned, and scraped at the tips of trees before shooting up again, all the while laughter you’ve never screamed before bubbled out of you.

And you were all alone. There was no mom to gleefully taunt your ikran with hers to get both of you dancing in the air. There was no father to watch on with a small smile he was fighting. There was no Neteyam to stop you from dipping too close to the ground, and no Lo’ak to challenge you to get closer to race with him — no Kiri to complain how all of you were being so childish, how stupid this was all the while she was the worst of you all, instigating all the chaos.

No Tuk in your mom’s lap whining about you guys leaving her off the fun.

Instead, there was the scent of a bogey in the air, snapping you out of the haze of sorrow.

When had you ventured out further into unprotected territory?

Linked with your thought process, the ikran stopped advancing forward and started beating his wings downward to stay unmoving, you observed the surroundings to get a better feeling of where you were, and noticed this was around the old shack, artificial lights were gliding between the leaves and branches that obscured your view of just who was roaming the grounds at night, definitely not a natural part of the forest’s flora.

Father’s voice materialized in your head, drilled into you and your siblings’ heads over and over again. If you come across any threat at all, do not engage, fall back and inform me. Got it? You call for me first.

And that split second of being afraid was your death sentence — that father would be so angry at you for your ignorance, amateurism, carelessness and idiocy that he could throw you out of the family for almost leading the demons to base simply by being there that they could figure out what direction you’d come from. That moment of weakness was enough for someone to snipe you out, and get you falling down from your ikran straight into the forest below, the cries of your new friend falling silent on your ears as you did your best to hug giant leaves to cushion your fall to the best of your ability. .

Barely any time was left for you to shake the disorienting motion sickness off, you couldn’t even attempt to run into the accepting, protective hands of the forest before whoever just shot at you was onto you, harshly gripping your arms and raising you up.

Father’s gonna be so mad if he finds out. Shit, I gotta get out of this.

But… Avatars? In full camo, armored, even. You hadn’t heard of this from anybody in camp!

“Damn! Didn’t actually think you’d be able to land the shot from all of that tree, man! Up-top!”

Two of them high-fived, you were actually going to be sick.

Thumb between his belt and stomach, another Avatar strutted towards you. The saunter and confidence meant that he was their leader. “Now, now… What do we have here?”

“A native.” You were being pushed down on your knees, one hand being grabbed and shown like a trophy. Just how many were there? You couldn't calm yourself enough to focus! “Four fingers.”

The speaker this time was a woman. “How unusual. Those monkeys don’t leave their coven at night.”

“Where were you flying, little bird?” The leader, a sleazy smirk on his face, leaned down to take a good look at you. “Leading away from the nest, perhaps?”

“She don’t understand, Colonel, don’t bother. Ya think Sully could ever manage teaching one word of English to those?”

“Watch how she learns in three seconds.” He yanked on your queue so hard you saw white light in this hour of darkness — and when your vision came back, a screen with your father’s face was being shoved to your face. “Jake Sully. Toruc Mactoe. Where is he?”

You screamed when he pulled with increasing strength, keeping up with the act you didn’t understand. And the state of pain and terror massively helped, contributing to you looking frantic and lost, only knowing that you were being zapped to your core.

“Seems like I don’t need to ask you.” His fingers snapped your head back to get a good look at your earpiece, late to notice you had it on at all because of the dark. “Can directly ask the man himself.”

All you could form to think was, ‘Father’s gonna kill me for this. He’s actually gonna kill me this time.’

You weren't terrified of what the Avatars would do to you. You were afraid of him.

One empty shell from the reloaded machine gun flew away, tinkling hollow when it fell down, and rolled until it stopped in a small pool of water that had formed on the jagged ground of the cave systems. In the scarlet and orange glow of the campfire he’d haphazardly put together right outside of their home out of impatience after Neytiri had basically thrown him out, Jake almost mistook the liquid for blood.

An ominous cloud of dread settled on his shoulders, a paranoia every father tended to go through.

“Big Brother, this is Devil Dog. State your status, over.”

Neteyam didn’t miss a beat to answer, thankfully. “Devil Dog, this is Big Brother. I’m still en route to Foxcove, over.”

“How much longer?”

“Ten minutes at best, sir. Over.”

What he wanted to say was how come he hadn’t met you halfway, but it was empty talk. No need to stress the boy out. “Devil Dog signing out.”

This girl was half the reason for the wrinkles on his forehead, Jesus Christ. He was basically waiting you out like a father sitting in the dark to ambush his daughter who had snuck out at night, for that single glorious moment of yeah that’s right, you got caught, after the light would come on to ruin that moment of relief of successfully making it back in.

His mate had scolded him to be nice and understanding, a Marine was anything but, the closest he could compromise was not being as mean to you than he had to be. Sassing, “So how was your Iknimaya?” like he planned was out the window — Neytiri was spot-on to say the girl would simply give the same mean energy right back at him, and that could only mean another erupting volcano of a fight and a good night’s sleep ruined for him, overthinking where he went wrong and how else he could have salvaged the situation.

He’d just make you tend to the ikrans for a week for some patience practice, cleaning shit for hours on a daily basis would certainly throw the temporary whim of the rite of passage hyperfixation out of your system. The possibility of you shouting you hated him was unavoidable, but Jake had to get his point across, no matter how terribly it nauseated him to hear something like that from his child.

It was strange to remember he couldn’t care less for what people thought of him in the past. Some shithead he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about hated Jake’s guts? Good. He was living in their head rent free, it was fun even — Neytiri too, Jake absolutely enjoyed her hating game at first.

Being legitimately resented by his very own child, though, was a heartbreak he didn’t expect to hurt him the way it did, knocking air off his lungs the first time he heard it. A burning stab right in his heart that wouldn’t go away until he had to hear it for himself you hadn’t meant any of what you said.

Because that said hate actually stemmed from hurt Jake must have inflicted. Because you could actually despise him, and never allow him to reconnect with you again if he could ever manage to garner the courage to reach out to you — a mightier challenge than hunting Toruk in the sense it actually scared him.

His teenage daughter. Scared him.

Jake didn’t know what to do about it, he couldn’t even show what exactly this made him feel, too ashamed and proud for it in the first place.

The growing distance between you and him was an uneasy, frightened bird he tried to shush and calm in his heart in favor of other pressing matters that drilled small holes in the depths of his stomach, and over time, those little holes had fused together to create one big pit with greater gravitational pull than the sun — until Jake didn’t know how to stitch them back together anymore.

He told himself he would talk to you later, for sure. The morning after every argument, every fight, every jab from you he snapped at he would try to make amends for, definitely.

And then he didn’t.

“What is this, are you palulukan ambushing prey? I told you to make up with her, not prepare for hunting.”

Jake shook his head, dropping the machine gun back inside the crate. The warmed metal was some sort of consolation to his nerves. Marine habit. Always felt safer with a gun near. (Or was it the American in him?) “Neytiri,” he acknowledged, bobbing his head. “I’m just passing time.”

“What do you think will happen when she comes back and sees you waiting for her like this?”

Ah, like the old times when Jake couldn’t do one thing right in her eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” he said playfully, but with no mirth behind it, closing the crate with a muffled thunk. With nothing to do with them, one elbow went to his knee and the other hand’s fingers started a rhythm on the lid he’d just shut.

His mate’s hand gingerly came down on his shoulder, kneading the nerves. “Just talk to her, Ma’Jake.”

“I don’t know how to,” he admitted, he covered her fingers on her shoulder with his, and she immediately held his hand back. “Don’t know what to even tell her.” He gave an exhale from the deeper, tired parts of his soul, gazing at the path leading away from their tent. “With Neteyam and Lo’ak, it’s easy. I tell ‘em what to do and they—”

Neytiri took a seat next to him, gathering their hands together. “Suffer just the same.” Jake was about to brush her off, but she didn’t relent. “What you’re doing is hurting them.”

This now was about all of their children rather than you, specifically. Neytiri was trying to get him to see the bigger picture first before moving to cover what he did wrong with each child of his, they had had this conversation countless times before.

Here we go again, Jake thought.

“Doesn’t matter if that’s what it takes to keep them safe.”

“Does it?” Neytiri leaned in, and calmness washed over him despite the disturbing nature of what she was saying. “Does it keep them safe? Or push them to act out more, get in worse situations?”

He grimaced. “I have to—”

“You feel like you have to.” His mate shook their clasped hands, rattling his bones. “I keep my children safe with trust and honesty. Transparence, Ma’Jake. So that they listen to me when I mean it because they See me. You shut them out.” Her lips bared to show her pearly teeth as she was practically beseeching him. “You don’t get your children’s trust by treating them like a squad.”

“They trust me plenty.”

“They trust Olo’eyktan. Toruk Makto. What about their father?”

“I make sure they’re safe.” Neytiri dropped his hands with an agitated snarl, she thought they were back at the beginning again, he couldn’t make her truly understand no matter what he did. He poured his heart out through their tsaheylu everytime, but her values and beliefs were wired so differently from his at the end of the day. “I make sure they stay where I want them to stay for their own good.” Jake shook his head, his voice soft, hushed. No force behind it when Neytiri was heated in return. “One day they’ll understand.”

“They won’t if you never tell them.”

“Tell them what?” Jake asked. “That I’m being harsh on them to prepare them for war? You think they’ll take it seriously after this?”

“Na’vi were in war long before you. There will be wars after you. No parent sullied his child’s happiness for the price of becoming a warrior. You still don’t get our ways even after all these years.”

“The sky people’s way,” Jake emphasized with his arms. “I have to teach them how they think, what they go through, so they know what they’ll be facing, okay? I can’t simply teach them by telling them.”

“You’re deluding yourself, Jake. Contradicting.” Neytiri was gentle in her cruelty, the flickering flames burned less than her amber eyes. “Tuk and Kiri are getting none of this. I know your heart isn’t allowing you. Why can’t you do the same for your other children?”

Because he had gone too far already with the older three.

Trial and error.

He couldn’t take back the things he did and say back — and quite honestly? Jake was being pulled from all sides to sit down and rethink his parenting. All he thought anymore was how to protect his family, frequent nightmares of losing his children in gruesome ways were haunting his every step.

A father protects his children, that’s what gives him meaning.

Jake had his own desperate ways to do so.

He opened his mouth to say something back, anything, but was interrupted by the communication line coming on. “Dad.”

Jake immediately knew something was wrong, body sitting ramrod straight. If the frantic breathing and barely controlled voice wasn’t any indication of it, his eldest’s behavior was. Neteyam didn’t slip up in the codenames like Lo’ak did, dropped all formalities only when he was borderline panicking.

“Dad. I’m sorry, dad, sir, I can’t find her, dad, I’ve looked everywhere around here, I thought maybe she was hiding underwater, behind rocks—but I can’t, I can’t—.”

“Slow down.” Jake could barely contain his own panic rising from the state his son was in. The boy wasn’t able to see it, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in as if Neteyam was right in front of him, and started gesturing with his hand. “Slow down, son.”

“Dad—”

Jake tsk-ed. “Neteyam, slow. Slow.”

Neytiri took his elbow. “What is it?”

He told her to wait with his gaze, and turned his attention back to Neteyam. This could only mean one thing, he was praying to be wrong — needed clarification. “Now tell me calmer. What’s going on?”

“She’s never been here. She never came here in the first place. There’s no sign of her. No trace. I’ve tracked.”

Jake’s instant response was fear. Domineering, ice-cold, cutting fear. Bodily and emotionally both. You were clockwork, similar to him in having unchanging routines and patterns. Angry? Went for a walk. Depressed? No talking to anyone until it passed. Happy? Wanted to go to the forest to spend time with your siblings and always craved sweet fruit. Didn’t want to be around anyone? Hid in the little bioluminescent cove with a pond two little mountains away, always. Always.

Neytiri sensed this, observing the change of demeanor in him.“Ma’Jake?”

“Okay, son.” He seized back control. One missing child was enough. “Stay right there and don’t move. I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Jake,” Neytiri hissed finally, at the end of her ropes.

“She didn’t go to the cove,” he said, face icy neutral as always, but his eyes showed dizzying concern. Neytiri put a hand on her mouth as Jake wasted no time in changing channels. “Night Owl, this is Devil Dog. Come in.” He couldn’t even wait two seconds before trying again. “Night Owl, what is your status? Where are you?”

Silence.

The more fear dug deeper into his skin, the more his anger and annoyance soared up, his tail was whipping the air erratically, the finger on the earpiece could send the metal right into his brain with how hard he was pressing on it. “I know you can hear me. This is no time for playing games. You know what you did to your brother? Do you know how panicked he was, not being able to find you—”

Then Jake remembered what Neytiri advised, he didn’t change strategies because she was right next to him to dig his eyes out, but because his heart was picking up its pace by the second. “Tell me where you are, I’ll leave you alone, I promise, alright? If you’re somewhere open, get to safety, I’m only asking this from you. Or else—”

“Don’t.” Neytiri raised a warning finger at him, voice just above a whisper so they could hear their daughter if she decided to cut in. “Threaten her.”

He couldn’t stop her from snatching the communication device off of him. “Ma’ite, it’s mom. Can you talk to me at least?”

His ears twitched at picking up on you responding, not quite making out the words.

Jake’s eyes shut close for a long time as his whole eyebrow line migrated upwards, he physically had to get a few steps between him and the earpiece so the obliviating worry that’d almost blinded him wouldn’t cause him to say something he’d greatly regret later. He could feel himself deflating. A migraine could be coming anytime soon.

You wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence but the moment your mother interrupted, you did? Fine. Fine. He didn’t care. Jake could live with it. At least you were alive.

A rippling shudder shook him the moment that thought hit him, an image of you lying dead in a ditch, pale blue, flashing in his mind, he had to run a hand down his face.

When Jake looked back, irked by the silence, he found Neytiri standing completely stock-still. And all of a sudden, her petrifying glare was on him, ears pinned all the way back, hands gradually starting to tremble.

“Neytiri?”

She wordlessly handed him the device, and with a deep frown, Jake put it back in his ear.

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

And the ground disappeared right under Jake’s feet, plunging him into hell itself.

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis @alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily

#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝#📖: light

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pupkashi · 7 months

Text

arguments are never nice, but at least they help you grow

a/n: hi hi ! here is some angst with gojo of course with a happy ending !! thank u for the requests and i hope you guys like it :3 I’m not the best w writing angst so feedback is very appreciated !!

wordcount: 1,580

masterlist

“could you please just listen to what I’m saying?” you frown, frustrated sighs leaving your lips, hands balled into fists at your side.

satoru seems unbothered, his eyes still on his phone, only half paying attention to whatever you were talking about.

“I am listening to you, y/n” he groans, finally setting his phone down and facing you.

“no you’re not” you groan, “you know what? whatever,” you mumble, already walking away when you hear satoru stand up from the couch, his hand wrapping around your wrist and pulling you back towards him.

“no, say what you wanted to say” he pushes, piercing blue eyes staring down at you, slightly narrowed.

the height difference makes him more intimidating than you’d ever thought, but the anger in your veins was enough to roughly pull your wrist free from his grasp, venom in your words as you repeat yourself.

“it’s like you don’t even love me anymore!” the words were meant to stay in the back of your mind, and your blood runs cold when satoru doesn’t even flinch at the accusation.

“whatever y/n,” he sighs, turning around and grabbing his phone from the couch.

you’re not sure what to do as you stand there, frozen. satoru only sits back down and resumes his scrolling, it’s makes your stomach hurt even more.

“you’re not even gonna deny it?” your voice is smaller now, and you try to ignore the tears blurring your vision.

“it’s what you think isn’t it? what the fuck do you want me to say?” his eyes never meet yours, and somehow it makes it even more painful.

there’s a beat of silence, and you almost think he’s gonna let out a sigh and apologize, but it never comes. instead you’re left standing infront of your boyfriend, hot tears down your face as he scrolls through his phone.

it’s only until he hears your muffled sniffling that reality seems to hit him, what the fuck was he doing?

when he finally makes it to your shared bedroom you’re already walking out, not saying a word to him as your carry the small suitcase behind you.

“where are you going? what’re you doing?” his voice finally seems to have some emotion in it, and it makes you want to laugh.

“leaving, what else does it fucking look like? a vacation to Belize?” satoru flinches a bit at your cold tone, hand already reaching out to stop you when you turn around, angry eyes meeting his now softer ones. “you had your chance, we’re done.”

the words hit satoru hard, air leaving his lungs as he watches you walk out of the bedroom door, heading straight for the front.

“no- sweetheart- y/n please don’t, I’m so sorry please i just-” his head is scrambled and he’s not sure exactly what to say or do, but he knows you cant leave through that door.

he’s rushing ahead of you to block the doorway, positioned in front of the doorknob so you can’t even think of reaching and opening the door.

“what is it you want gojo?” the name feels foreign on your tongue, and it makes the man standing over you flinch as you stare up at him.

“you,” he replies, not missing a beat as you roll your tear filled eyes at him, scoffing.

“me?” you laugh, not bothering to hide the slight tremble in your hands as you point an accusatory finger at him, poking him in the chest slightly. “maybe you should’ve thought of that when you didn’t give me the time of day, or when i just wanted five minutes with you,” you growl, “or when i told you right now how you didn’t even love me and you didn’t even fight back.”

there’s hot tears down your face now and your sure he can see your whole body shaking. he can only stand there, heart breaking and walls spinning as you continue to berate him. what else can he do? he deserved this.

“you know im not used to this!” he pleas, blue eyes trying their best to coax out any sort of compassion, “anytime someone wants to leave me i just push them away first so it hurts less,” he groans, hands running messily through his hair.

“please y/n, you know i love you, more than anything,” his eyes are a bit red as he leans down a bit, trying to get you to look at him, but you only push him away.

you only shake your head at him, “no, you don’t get to play the ‘this is my first real relationship’ card, not right now” taking a couple steps away from the door, watching as satoru closes the gap between the two of you.

“sweets please, I’m sorry I’ve been so caught up with work and the elders and higher ups and the kids, I just- it’s no excuse and-” you only look at him when you hear a choked sob leaving his lips, watching as the once cocky and cold man breaking down in front of you.

“you don’t deserve how I’ve treated you, but i promise I’ll learn and I’ll grow,” he pleads, and for a second the anger in your body subsides. “i cant lose you, i don’t know what I’d do without you,” the tears flowing down his face have your heart faltering, and you almost reach out to wipe them away.

almost.

the sigh you let out is enough to make satoru tear his eyes from the floor, watching as you let go of your suitcase and head to the couch, taking a seat and setting your head in your hands. he’s frozen in his spot for a second, sniffling softly before wiping his face and tentatively walking over to you, sitting an arms length away from you.

“why didn’t you deny it?” you ask, your head still in your hands, not bothering to look at him. satoru sits up a bit straighter, his eyes fixated on you, hoping you’d look at him.

“anytime I get close to someone, or i start caring about them something bad always happens to them,” his voice shaky as he continues, “for a second i thought maybe this was the easy way out, maybe this way you wouldn’t get hurt.”

“how would that not hurt me? how could this possibly have been easier than just talking to me?” you frown, finally looking at him with tear filled eyes, “how could letting me believe that you’ve fallen out of love be easy?”

“it’s not!” he scowls, “it hurt and i didn’t know what to do and it wasn’t until you were actually leaving that i realized and- fuck,” he sighs, bottom lip quivering as he sucks in a sharp breath.

“it’s only when you were leaving i pictured my life without you, and it’s not a life I’d want to live,” his blue eyes are focused on the wall for a second before he’s staring at you again. “i fucked up, badly, and I’m so sorry y/n but please,” he’s scooting a bit closer to you, his hand hovering just over yours, as if he’s asking permission to touch you.

you can feel the warmth of his hand radiating onto yours, just barely moving so your hands would intwine with his. there’s a warmth that blossoms in your chest as you watch him relax at your touch, practically melting when he feels your skin against his.

“give me one chance, i can’t promise i won’t fuck up again, but I’ll promise to try my best and communicate with you,” red rimmed eyes searching yours as he waits, “i love you with all i am, i can promise that.”

the seconds that it takes you to reply feels eternal, and satoru can feel the ground beneath his feet crumbling away.

“okay,” you whisper, “one chance, gojo, if you mess it up that’s it we-” you’re cut off by strong arms wrapping around your waist, his face burying itself into the crook of your neck, his hair tickling you a bit.

“thank you, i love you, im so sorry sweetheart,” he breathes out, squeezing you a bit tighter.

after a moment of debate you’re throwing you arms around him, rubbing his back and breathing in the familiar scent of his cologne and your laundry detergent.

“i love you too ‘toru,” you mumble, rolling your eyes as he peeks up at you, a stupid grin on his face as he hears the nickname he’s grown fond of.

you stay like that for a while, only pulling away when he hears your stomach growling.

“how about we order your favorite takeout, put on the show we’re watching and stay in tonight? just you and me?” there’s no point in hiding the smile on your lips as you nod, letting him plant a gentle kiss on the apple of your cheek.

satoru wasn’t perfect, and he wasn’t gonna get everything right on the first try. but he does try his best.

maybe he burns a pan somehow making you chocolate covered strawberries, maybe he puts way too much vanilla extract in the cookies he baked you, but he’s trying.

and when he’s giggling and staring at you like you hung the moon, buying you flowers everytime he’s coming home to you and doing his best to set aside time for you, you feel yourself falling harder for him.

satoru was trying, and that’s all you could ever ask for.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @sat6ru @beautiful-is-boring @luna0713hunter @torusmochi

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lilsmv1 · 10 days

Text

orange cat - OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: What happens your neighbour's adorable orange cat starts to pay you daily visits?

Word count: 1k

London welcomed me with its perpetually gray skies and damp weather, a stark contrast to the sunny shores of California I had left behind. As I settled into my new apartment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness for the warmth of home.

For the first few weeks, I hardly saw my neighbours, lost in the shuffle of unpacking and adjusting to my new surroundings. But one persistent visitor soon made himself known – a vibrant orange cat that would perch itself on my windowsill, peering into my living room with curious eyes.

At first, I found it amusing, but as the days went by and the cat became a regular fixture, I grew concerned. Surely, someone must be missing their furry friend. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I scribbled a quick note on a yellow post-it, explaining the situation and tucking it under my neighbor's door. "Your cat seems to be visiting me often," I wrote. "Just wanted to let you know in case you're worried."

Days passed, and I received no response. I wondered if my neighbor had even seen the note or if they simply didn't care about their wandering pet.

But then, one evening, there was a soft knock on my door.

Opening the door, I found myself face to face with a handsome young man, his expression sheepish yet friendly. He held a small box in his hands, the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting from within.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," he began, his accent unmistakably Australian. "I'm Oscar, your neighbor from next door. I just wanted to apologize for my cat bothering you. And, well, to say thank you for looking out for him."

I couldn't help but smile at his genuine demeanor. "No problem at all, your cat is lovely, I was simply worried you might wonder where he was" I replied, accepting the box of pastries. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Oscar" I replied, introducing myself as well.

"Do you maybe wanna come in? I can make us some tea or coffee and we could eat the pastries you brought?" I added.

"I would love that!" replied Oscar with a warm smile.

From that moment on, Oscar and I struck up an unexpected friendship. We bonded over our shared love for his cat and baked goods, finding comfort in each other in the big city of London, so far from our respective homes. Oscar told me all about his work as a Formula One driver, and I could not help but be in awe of how passionate he was. I, on the other end, told him about the teaching opportunity that got me to move here, and I would often tell him cute stories from my classroom.

As weeks turned into months, our friendship deepened. Oscar proved to be not only a generous neighbor but also a reliable friend. Whether it was helping me fix a leaky faucet or lending a hand with heavy groceries, he was always there when I needed him.

Our weekly movie nights, whenever Oscar wasn't out of the country, became a cherished tradition, a welcome break from our everyday lives. We'd take turns picking films, debating over classics and hidden gems late into the night.

But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, I couldn't ignore the growing feeling in my chest whenever I saw Oscar. He was kind, funny, and undeniably attractive – qualities that drew me in despite my best efforts to keep my distance.

One day, as I scrolled through Twitter during a lazy afternoon, I stumbled upon something that caught me off guard. Pictures of Oscar, smiling brightly alongside a beautiful girl with long blonde hair.

A pang of jealousy shot through me, surprising in its intensity. I realised then, with startling clarity, that my feelings for Oscar ran deeper than I had initially thought. But it was too late – I was now pretty sure he was already taken, and I had no right to interfere.

Unable to shake off my newfound jealousy, I began to distance myself from Oscar, avoiding our usual interactions and retreating into solitude. But my sudden coldness did not go unnoticed.

One evening, there was a sharp knock on my door, and when I opened it, there stood Oscar, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern.

"What's going on with you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with hurt. "You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."

"I'm not" I replied defensively.

"Come on, don't give me that bullshit" replied a rather angry Oscar. "You've been avoiding me. Have I done something?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability.

I hesitated, the weight of my emotions heavy in the air between us. But then, with a surge of courage, I found myself blurting out the truth.

"I... I think I'm in love with you, Oscar," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing you with someone else... it hurts more than I thought it would."

For a moment, there was silence, the tension palpable. But then, to my surprise, Oscar stepped forward, his eyes burning with intensity.

"God, you can be so dense sometimes" he breathed

"Hum, excuse me?" I replied, clearly offended.

"The girl you're talking about, that's my new PR manager."

"Oh..."

"I thought I was being fairly obvious as to how I feel about you." he said softly, reaching out to cup my face in his hands.

And with that, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a heated and passionate kiss, leaving me breathless.

#oscar piastri #op81 #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #op81 fic #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff

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wyvernest · 8 months

Text

requested by @littlelilbun <3

cocoon cuddles

pairing: miguel o'hara x f!reader

warnings: a little hurt! & comfort, a lot of fluff, miguel being extremely soft and affectionate, miguel speaking Spanish? the usual

summary: miguel comforts you after a very rough day

Truth be told, today was awful. The kind of day that makes your head swim in all the worst kinds of thoughts.

As you enter Miguel's mansion, you're quick to frown following the realisation of his absence. Another rough anomaly, you think. Just great.

You feel like a toddler that's been promised the most beautiful cake at the end of a tiring, horrible day only for the time to come with no cake.

You've been looking forward to the comfort of his embrace all day long. Ever since you've received that terrible news, wasting all your mental energy simply by thinking about it and all the ways you could or could not fix your problems.

Entering the bedroom after an undeserved shower, you let yourself fall face first into the mattress, succumbing to your worries and seemingly irreparable issues. Frustration and dismay boiled in your chest, almost suffocating.

You don't know how long it's been until you hear the familiar loud thump on the tall windows of the first floor, no doubt another careful landing of Miguel's on the thick glass, followed by the ever so funny sound of his talons scratching into the rough outer walls of the house before pushing the translucent door open.

You gather all that's left of your power to jolt out of bed welcoming him with an aching yet open heart.

His firm footsteps climbing up the stairs quicken at the sound of your own, and before you know it, you are reunited.

"Siento llegar tarde. Te extrañé, mi vida." (I'm sorry I'm late, I missed you)

He extends his arms for you to jump into his embrace, but you're stunned. Your love for him suddenly explodes along with all the sadness that's filled your being all this time, and you break down.

He's so sweet. Even when you're upset, he manages to cheer you up and take your mind off everything else with just a look and barely a few words.

Tears stain your cheeks as you approach him slowly with watery eyes, bumping your head face forward into his chest, arms cuddled tightly against him. Your gentle sobs are muffled into his suit, occasionally interrupted by sharp, quiet inhales.

"Bebita", He coos, affectionately and full of sweetened pity, disappointed and heartbroken with your evident sorrow. He wraps his arms around you and lets you cry into his chest, knowing that words aren't necessary anymore.

You can talk later, tell him about it all. Now he needs to get you out of the pit you've sunken into, full of confusion and misery.

Walking you back to the bedroom, he places you softly on the bed, and before you can figure out what he's planning, he wraps the white blankets around you, efficiently rendering you unable to move.

You don't fight against it, the soft sobs fading into a slight amused smile.

"What are you doing?" You speak impossibly quiet and gentle, watching him gather the materials together with unnecessary focus, as if he was working in the lab with millimetric utensils. You giggle at the sight, and his heart grows warm at the sound.

He looks at you, smirking without answering. You shuffle in the thin cocoon, finding a comfortable position for your wrists. Finally, he ties a knot with two joined corners and moves to hover above you.

He scans all the features of your face, the glistening skin of your flushed cheeks, your softened eyes and agape mouth, ready to protest.

"Now wha-!" you attempt to speak, interrupted by his mouth on yours. He places an infinitely loving smooch to your pout, all anxiety clearing like clouds swept away by cool winds on a summer morning after a midnight thunderstorm.

When he moves away, all warmth and breath is stolen from you. Before you can clumsily chase after his kisses in your confinement, he picks you up and shuffles over to the headboard, placing you on his lap.

He holds you with a hand wide spread on your upper arm, your head comfortably nestled in his elbow pit. His other arm is draped across your waist, affectionate and protective.

"Mira lo guapa que eres." (Look how beautiful you are)

He kisses your forehead, another unhurried, lingering smooch. "I can't bear to see you like this, bebita." He kisses both your cheeks, his warm breath fanning over your face making your eyelids grow heavy with cosiness and adoration. You feel at home, safe, in his strong arms and under his ever loving touch.

"I'll take care of you." A kiss to your temple. Another on your cheekbone. "I'll take care of everything." More kisses around your mouth, and one to your right eye that finally lets a giggle erupt out of you.

You struggle against the cotton cocoon, wanting to free your arms and grab his handsome face in return. His hold tightens around you.

"Tranquila." (Relax.) He moves his head to the crook of your neck, placing a wet kiss below your jaw, making you instantly melt into his heated embrace, almost instinctively. He inhales deeply, leaning his temple against yours.

You close your eyes, content and finally serene.

He nuzzles his nose in your pinky cheek, resuming the pecks. "Nothing is worth your smile. I'll travel through any universe, however far, to destroy anything that's troubling you, mi reina."

He finally gives in and kisses your soft lips, making you sigh gently into his mouth.

You feel your entire soul pour into his, a fresh mountain stream slowly flowing into a fresh, sun enlightened pond. Almost chest to chest, you feel his heart speed up, in sync with yours.

You wouldn't ever want to have it any other way.

divider by @cafekitsune

a/n: HOPE IT WAS WORTH THE WAIT!!! i still cant believe i couldn't find a pic for the cuddling position i was describing but anyways i hope it's clear enough 🫠🫠🫠

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara smut #miguel ohara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader one shot #miguel o hara #atsv miguel #miguel spiderman #spider verse #spider man 2099 #spiderman 2099

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yourgothiccqueen · 26 days

Text

LN4 - “Formula One Sucks” Part 2

Summary: Y/N and Lando go on their first date.

Pairings: Lando Norris x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, hints of sexual tension etc

PART 1 PART 2 PART 3

Masterlist

*Ping*

Y/N glanced down at her phone, a small smile forming at her lips. There would only be one person messaging her so late at night.

lightning mcqueen: Soooo, what did you think of the race today? :)

The last thing she expected to happen after her begrudging trip to Silverstone was to end up texting a certain McLaren driver.

Well, it was more than texting really. There were calls too, every other day. Lando was a busy (understatement of the year) guy, but they’d found themselves falling into a comfortable routine of late night conversations.

y/n: didn’t watch it, was too busy washing my dog :,)

A lie, of course. Y/N had recently found herself infatuated with F1. She hadn’t missed a race. But she wasn’t going to let Lando feel smug about that.

lightning mcqueen: u little shit, you don’t have a dog!

y/n: says who?!

lightning mcqueen: you, on the phone last week!

y/n: 🤷‍♀️ maybe I was washing my friends dog?

lightning mcqueen: its okay, no need for lies - i know ur an f1 super fan now thanks to yours truly :D

Y/N felt a smile tug at her lips. Okay, he was smug. But it was kinda cute.

y/n: okayyyy, perhaps I did watch. And perhaps I thought you were rather impressive. happy now?

lightning mcqueen: very :) goodnight grumpy girl x

y/n: goodnight u smug bastard x

————————————————————-

It didn’t take long for him to ask her on a date. It caught her by surprise, despite the ease at which they’d been chatting over the past month.

“What do you even wear on a date with an F1 driver?” Y/N groaned, flopping back on to her bed.

Piles of clothes were scattered around the room, deemed totally unacceptable for a date with Lando Norris.

“Not this.” Her friend Annie, grimaced, picking up a bright pink Oodie off of the floor.

“Yeah no shit!”

“Look, you must have something in here.” Annie rummaged through the wardrobe. “Where’s he taking you anyway?”

“Someplace in central. It’s not too fancy, but it’s definitely fancier than the pink Oodie.” Y/N pointed.

“Oooo. This could work!” Annie pulled out a relatively new, seemingly unworn black dress. “Can’t go wrong with a little black dress.”

Y/N’s eyes widen - “I can’t wear that!”

“Why the hell not?”

“It’s too…showy. I bought it on a whim. For a nice occasion.”

Annie rolled her eyes “if you’re not going to wear it on a date with a super hot formula one driver, then when the hell are you gonna wear it?!”

Fair point.

———————————————————

Stood outside the restaurant, Y/N felt her nerves begin to grow. What the hell was she doing? She didn’t do this sort of thing! If she’d had told herself a month ago that she’d be going on a date with Lando, she’d have laughed in her own face. This was wild. This was ridiculous. This was positively insane in fact!

“Y/N?”

Suddenly whipped out of her own thoughts, Y/N turned around.

Oh god, he looked bloody gorgeous.

He smiled at her, his eyes twinkling as he did. His white shirt was a stark contrast against his tan skin. His curly hair was slightly more tamed than usual - he’d clearly made an effort, which made Y/N’s heart race even faster.

“Hey!” She managed to stutter out, sounding far more confident than she felt inside.

“Hi! God I’m so sorry I’m late, were you waiting long?” Lando queried.

Y/N had failed to notice that he was late in the first place, having been so in her own head.

“No just got here.” She smiled. “You look really nice.” She paused, a fleeting moment of confidence. “For a smug bastard, of course.”

A quick laugh left Lando’s mouth.

“Ha! You look lovely too, despite being the world's grumpiest woman, of course.”

“Oh of course.” Y/N giggled, as they made their way inside.

He’d chosen well - it was beautiful inside the restaurant, but not fancy enough to make Y/N feel uncomfortable.

Y/N placed her phone down on the table as she sat, and Lando couldn’t help but catch a glimpse.

“Wait, why am I called Lightning McQueen in your phone?” He laughed.

“Because you’re fast - duh!”

“Lightning McQueen is red.” Lando retorted, a look of exasperation written across his face, as he made himself comfortable in his chair.

“So?”

Lando rolled his eyes, jokingly.

"There's nothing wrong with red cars!" Y/N exclaimed.

“Well, I prefer orange myself. Gimme your phone, I’ve got a better name.”

“If I must”

Y/N passed her phone across the table and into Lando's hand. His fingers brushed hers as she did so. Despite their playful bickering, she couldn't help but wish she could leave her hand on his a moment longer.

God, she was fully gone and she'd only been sat in his presence for less than five minutes. He was going to be the death of her.

Lando typed into Y/N’s phone momentarily, before passing it back, a small smirk on his face.

“Lando ‘The Hunk’ Norris?” She laughed, eyebrows raising. “Really?”

“Well, it’s much more accurate, don’t you think?”

He folded his arms across his chest. Y/N felt herself begin to blush, so decided the sane response was to hide herself behind the menu.

"Well?" Lando quipped.

"Well what, Lando 'The Hunk' Norris?" Y/N spoke, glancing up at the curly haired man. His eyes bore into hers, a slight mischievous glint to them.

"Aren't you going to agree?"

"You want me to tell you that you are in fact, a 'hunk'?" She retorted.

Lando leaned back in his chair. "I suppose I don't need you to. The fact that you've gone bright red says it all."

Y/N felt her blush deepen.

"You're a cocky bastard. you know that?"

"I haven't had any complaints yet."

---------------------------------------------------

The rest of the date passed in a blur of midly flirtatious comments and an abundance of sexual innuendos. Y/N wasn't sure what she had been expecting when she'd agreed to a date with Lando. She'd presumed he'd be polite, and sincere and kind - which he was. But what she hadn't anticipated was his quick wit and his ability to call her out. She liked it. She liked it very much indeed.

Perhaps she'd finally met her match.

By the time they left the restaurant the sun had long set, and a light drizzle had set in.

Y/N felt the breath leave her lungs as Lando took his hand in hers.

"Thank you." He smiled, softly.

"What for, exactly?" She questioned, half unable to focus on anything except the feeling of his warm hand in hers.

"For...this. It's not often I get to meet someone who... makes me feel so normal. Someone who isn't afraid to say what's on their mind. It's nice."

Once again, a blush crept up Y/N's neck and towards her cheeks.

"Well, I am pretty incredible." She winked.

"Oh, shut up!"

"Make me."

Lando stepped forward, and in one breathe his lips crashed into her own. It was messy at first, filled with passion and unresolved sexual tension, before they found their rhythm. She closed her eyes, feeling his strong hands wrapped around her waist. His mouth molded against hers, warmth spilling throughout her body. He was perfect. His mouth moved in perfect timing against hers, as she entwined her hands at the base of his hair, letting her fingers run through his curls. She could stand her forever, she thought, with her body pressed against his, his mouth against hers.

Eventually, Y/N pulled away first, gazing up into Lando's darkened eyes. His lips were swollen and wet - she already wanted to kiss him again.

"Want to continue this date at mine?" She whispered, unable to leave his gaze.

"Say no more."

#lando Norris x reader #lando norris one shot #lando norris x you #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #lando Norris x female reader #Lando #Lando Norris imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #fluff #FYP #lando Norris #McLaren

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heartpascal · 1 month

Text

i was born waiting

▹— joel miller x daughter!reader

▹— summary: you’ve been looking for your dad for as long as you can remember, is this really him?

▹— a/n: hi! i started writing this september ‘23, so it has. it’s been a WHILE. so if this seems jumpy / not consistent then that is why! sorry!!! i have done my best!!!

▹— warnings: canon-typical violence and themes, weapons, parental death, witnessing parental death, aka insane amounts of trauma, death in general, she/her pronouns, reader is biologically related to joel but no mentions of appearance, no mention of her bio mother’s appearance either, fantasising about being dead (sorry), all hurt zero comfort, attempted murder, unrealistic expectations of someone you never met — please let me know if ive missed anything!

▹— taglist: @rhymingtree @sleepygraves @wnstice (everything), @auggiesolovey @just-kaylaa @evyiione @lemonlaides @fariylixie0915 @faceache111 @randomhoex @canpillowscry @pedropascalsrealgf @star-wars-lover @coolchick333 @soobsdior @rvjaa @sunflowersdrop @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @miss-celestial-being @hqkon

MASTERLIST

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

There are certain things from your childhood that you can remember vividly. Though, really, childhood is a bit of a stretch, isn’t it? It’s hard to find the right word to encompass the way you had grown up, because you didn’t have much of a chance to actually grow.

From the moment you had been born, your life was a battle of staying alive to see another day.

That’s not to say that your mother didn’t do her best for you, obviously. But it was hard to raise a child as a child in the midst of a global apocalypse. You were bound to end up the way you did — moulded and hardened by the world around you, by having to pick up a gun at seven years old and use it to protect your mother. By never putting that gun back down.

For the past few years, you had known your mother was suffering. The world had been anything but kind to her, and age was hitting her harder than she had expected. More than the physical aspect, you knew it had been destroying her, the fact that you were now the one protecting her and not the other way around.

But what choice did you have? Her aging body had left her fragile, prone to falling and breaking even more frail bones. You could see the strain on her muscles, as they slowly decayed and shrunk, until they were barely there at all. You couldn’t let her carry the burden for you anymore, because you knew her body couldn’t handle it.

You had been preparing yourself for that moment, though. Making sure that you were ready, that you were strong enough for the both of you, strong enough to shoulder the burden she had been carrying for years.

When you were growing up, your mother had told you tales of your father.

She had told you all about how strong he had been, how he had been the best man she had ever known. She told you how he had cared for his daughter before you, how he had been the best father to that girl. When you were old enough to comprehend these things, you’d asked what had happened to him. “Is dad dead?” You had asked her, watching the way her face fell.

“I don’t know, honey. I hope not.” She had responded, smiling sadly at you, and patting her hand against your cheek.

It was hard for you to let go of that.

The uncertainty had haunted you for the rest of your life since that very moment, leaving you wondering for hours at a time where he could possibly be, why he would ever leave your mother to carry this responsibility alone. And in your more selfish moments, you couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t here to care for you as he had his daughter before you.

For a long time, you had convinced yourself that he was dead, despite what your mother hoped. And sure, you felt that loss, something like mourning weighing you down, but it was the only way you felt you could accept his absence. He had to be dead, because otherwise, why wasn’t he here?

But as you grew up, getting taller, stronger, you felt like you could rationalise his absence even if he wasn’t dead. After all, the apocalypse wasn’t exactly family friendly. You figured that if your mother didn’t know whether or not your dad was alive, that the same could go for him. He might just think that you and your mom died, years ago. After all, how many pregnant women survived the end of the world?

You have a feeling that the answer would have to be not many.

So, really, you and your mother being alive by now was nothing short of a miracle. It was a testament to your mother’s strength, her ability. She had succeeded where so many others had failed, and she had managed to keep both herself and you alive.

It’s a bitter kind of irony that you can’t do the same.

The last dredges of autumn fall away, leading into the coldest and harshest part of the year. Winter is hard — it’s full to the brim with fresh Infected, the ones not yet frozen solid, and resources are more scarce than ever. And this winter feels like something tangible, something which sends unending waves of dread through you.

Your mother gets weaker by the day, spending more time resting than moving, and you spend as much time as you can keeping her warm, finding food and water and pain relief for her broken arm that didn’t heal right. She’s exhausted, you can see it in her face, in her every movement. And you’re pretty sure it’s not just from the lack of rest. She watches you with dulled eyes, something like heartbreak reflecting in them.

For a long time, you pretend not to notice.

You pretend that you don’t see the way she lags behind, just watching you move away from her with speed she can’t quite manage any longer. You pretend that you don’t see the way she hesitates before taking her painkillers, or her food, or the last sip of water.

This year, the winter brings something worse than the cold. A bug, spreading across the state in a way that was familiar to so many. Not quite the Infection, but still able to take out people with ease.

When your mother catches it, you physically felt your heart clench in your chest. You felt it squeezing all of the blood around your body so quickly that you became dizzy with it. There’s a panic so deep that you can’t climb your way out of it. For days, weeks, you’re certain that you’ve lost her. That after everything, everything you’ve done, everything the two of you have been through, a cold would be the end of it all.

But then, she gets better.

The little strength she had before the sickness returns to her, bringing some colour back to her skin, some ease back to her breathing.

Religion wasn’t a thing in the apocalypse. Not really. But if you had believed in God, you would’ve thanked every one that might’ve existed for giving you this. This miracle. This small mercy.

The two of you are in an abandoned barn when it happens.

You’re dozing away, not quite asleep, but not awake either, when you hear the sound of old hay crunching underneath boots. If you weren’t so familiar with the lightness of your mother’s footsteps, you might’ve passed it off as her wandering. But these boots are heavy. They’re purposeful.

The gun in your hand means nothing when you jerk upwards, eyes snapping open and squinting through the light let into the barn by the rising winter sun. It’s an image that has since been ingrained into the back of your skull, replaying each time you close your eyes.

There, right in front of you, is your mother.

Behind her, a man, a gun pressed to the back of her skull.

Your stomach lurched suddenly in that moment, the small rationed dinner you had before dozing off trying to rise to the back of your throat, trying to race the rapid beating of your heart to see which would kill you first.

“Put down the gun.” He said, voice cold, throat dry from the winter air. The sound of his voice is printed in the base of your brain, echoing every time things around you still, go quiet.

He could be bluffing, you thought in the moment. His gun could be unloaded. It didn’t take you long to notice that the safety was off, but in those few moments, he had pressed the end of it harder into your mother’s head. You dropped the gun to the floor without another moment of thought.

You were nauseous, waiting to wake up, to realise this was all some twisted nightmare.

But you could see a look in your mother’s eyes. Acceptance. Defeat. It was almost familiar to you, so closely related to the look she had been giving you for months.

All this time, she had just been waiting to die. Waiting for something to come along and kill her off, to free you from having to take care of her. She knew that if it was up to you, that you would look after her for the rest of your goddamn life. If she lived any longer, she might just live long enough to see you die.

“Slide it over.”

You barely registered the cold pinch of metal against your palm as you pushed the gun away from you, sending it skittering over the rough ground and into the side of an old hay bale.

“Now your pack.”

There was a numbness to you as you gripped the backpack you had been leaning against, and chucked it towards where he stood behind your mother. It hit the front of his boot, but his eyes didn’t stray from where he stared at you.

“Turn around.”

You stared at him, teeth gritted together.

“No.”

There was a beat where both him and your mother just watched you. And then the surprise flickered across his face, apparently not expecting any resistance from you.

“Turn. Around.” He told you, firmer this time.

“No.”

“Okay then,” He relented, after a moment of consideration. His eyes drifted down towards your mother, who stared forwards at you. “This your daughter?” He asked, jerking his head towards you despite knowing your mother couldn’t see the movement.

“Yes, she is,” Your mother said, voice shaking, her breath clouding in front of her face as it reached the cold air. “Please, just let her be.”

He hummed, dropping his free hand down to rest heavily on your mother’s shoulder, his fingers clamping around it and not helping the way she trembled.

“So, your momma, huh?” He asked you, a smirk drawing up his face, showing smile lines around his murky blue eyes. His hair rustled in the wind, a piece falling down across his forehead. He stared at you, and you stared at him, not daring to say a word, still hoping that this whole thing was a dream. Muscles in his cheek twitched, pulling his skin taut and showing a scar across his left cheekbone. “Good.”

There was a moment where the sound didn’t register. A moment where you didn’t even realise it was your mother when the body slumped forwards. A mere moment where you didn’t think about it being her blood that splattered across your face.

The moments after that though, become blurry, hazed over, and you’re not sure it actually ever hit you that the body before you was your mother.

You’ve always had a hard time remembering that bodies were once people, that they once had lives and loved ones and thoughts and feelings. That they weren’t just bodies. So seeing her like that, as a body, not her, was wrong on so many levels. It didn’t feel real. Nothing did.

You heard the second gunshot, just a moment later, followed by a snickering laugh that you would never forget, before the pain bloomed in you.

It was buried by the shock, the complete disbelief, and you only felt the pain for mere seconds.

His gun — the one that killed your mother — was whacked across the side of your head a moment after, and that was the end of that.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

Three months passed by, judging by the way the seasons turned, and you were on your own.

It was a strange feeling, really. Throughout the entirety of your life, you had never actually been alone. At least, not really. Your mother was always a small ways away, a mere shout from running to you. There had never been any true distance between the two of you until that day.

A sort of ache claws your throat each day, when you realise that it’s easier like this.

The only back you have to watch is your own, the only life you have to worry about belongs to you, and you have nothing to lose in this world. There was no terrible outcome if you were caught. Nobody else would be hurt, or suffer because of it. And you’re less likely to be caught now, when you don’t have your mother slowing you down. You don’t have to stop for the frequent rest breaks she needed, you can try to outrun Infected without worrying about someone lagging behind, and you only have yourself to feed.

If your mother had known how much easier survival was when alone, you hope that she would’ve abandoned you at birth. Because perhaps, without the burden of you upon her shoulders, she wouldn’t have fallen apart so quickly.

Sometimes, you like to think of a world where she was spared all of this. Never pregnant with you, for a start. So when the infection broke out, she would’ve only had herself to worry about. You think that maybe, one day, she would’ve been able to reunite with your father. If she hadn’t been carrying a child, she would’ve been able to manage the journey to where she believed him to be. You look at the picture that had been in the pocket of her coat for your whole life, the papers folded and clipped to the back of it, one word underlined: Boston.

You had reached a store in the weeks after that day, and when you found a map, it wasn’t difficult to notice that the direction the two of you had been heading in was to that very city.

It’s a long shot. More than a long shot, really, but you find yourself continuing in that direction regardless. You don’t know what you hope to find in Boston, whether it was your dad, or the man who had killed your mother, or perhaps just somewhere to take shelter for a while. You try not to hope for anything. You try not to focus on the fact that you might not even make it that far.

It keeps you up for days.

The uncertainty of it. The unknown. The fact that you’re walking your way to a city you know nothing about, almost certain that your mother’s killer was already there, and more than that, consumed by a fever that might kill you regardless of the where the journey took you.

The only sleep you get results in fever dreams, rippling, warping images that make your perception falter, feeling all too real until you notice that it’s not. And when you do wake up from them, it’s as if you haven’t slept at all. An exhaustion weighs heavily upon you, and your shoulders hunch over with it. There’s almost nothing you wouldn’t do to get rid of that endless feeling.

You hope—or wish, maybe— that if you reach Boston, the journey there will have tired you out so much that your body will have no choice but to rest. It’s a distant thought in your mind, though. You’re almost certain you won’t make it that far, because if the fever doesn’t get you, surely the Infected will.

It’s not as though you’re trying to get killed. But there is a kind of peace that comes with the thought. There’s an idea of rest behind it, hiding within the shadowy depths that make you scared. Would not having to fight in order to survive really be so terrible? You have this image in mind, of a never ending blackness, a void, somewhere that your thoughts and worries can just fizzle away. The small part of your fever-fried brain that has retained its rationality reminds you of the unknown. It reminds you that death could be worse than this.

You don’t like the thought. Not after that day. It’s a shuddering feeling, wondering if your mother is in some kind of unreachable hell.

By the time you’re even close to Boston, a few hours out at most, you’re out of ammo in the gun you’d found along the way. Out of food rations. No knife, no resources. You’re barely standing on two legs, kept up by the adrenaline, the knowledge alone that you’re this close.

When the tall walls of the QZ finally come into view, you start to feel some amount of hope. Which is a dangerous thing, but especially in a situation as dire as your own. You couldn’t afford any adrenaline fading, couldn’t afford to lose your cautious nature. You couldn’t make a mistake. One wrong move, one slight misstep, and you’d be as dead as your mother. Or worse, infected. Though this close to a QZ, you had some amount of relief at the knowledge that they should’ve cleared out any nearby infected. Runners, and clickers alike.

Your steps don’t falter for a moment. Partly because of your worry about the fever taking you out, but mostly because you’re certain that the FEDRA guards on watch on top of the wall will have spotted you, and you don’t want them to think you’re Infected, just because of your sickly appearance, and shoot on sight. Though, with FEDRA’s track record, it wouldn’t surprise you if they just shot you down regardless.

For a while, you’re not sure if you’re even awake, or if perhaps you were stuck in yet another fever dream. Everything felt so real and so not real simultaneously, it felt impossible to believe that you had actually made it.

Soldiers met you on your approach, calling out for you to get on the ground with your hands up. You called back some sort of response as you did so, practically collapsing to your knees and squeezing your eyes shut at the pain that followed. But despite all of it, despite the pain and the rough hands that grabbed you and pulled you forwards, through the gates and straight into a building, you had made it to Boston.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

It was maybe three weeks into being a resident of the Boston QZ that you caught wind of him for the first time. Or, at the very least, somebody who might be him. You didn’t know how common the surname Miller was, being a child of the apocalypse, but you kind of hoped the answer was uncommon.

“Goddamn Miller, again.” A man had muttered as you walked through the trading market. You paused almost instantly, pretending to peruse the feeble amount of clothes a woman had to trade. “Said we gotta go through him and Tess if we want anything, as if we gotta listen to them.” He practically spat out, glaring around as he spoke to the woman beside him.

“They’re the most well established smugglers in the whole goddamn QZ. Don’t have to tell you how, do I?” She asked, sounding more annoyed with her companion than she was with whoever Miller and Tess were. “Joel is as nasty as they come, Darren. Don’t get on the wrong side of him.”

Your heart practically stuttered to a stop in your chest, and you had to remind yourself to keep breathing. Could it possibly be a coincidence? Could there be another Joel Miller? One who wasn’t your father? Sure, it was possible. Plausible, even, considering the fact that you had absolutely no idea if he was here. Not any concrete idea, anyway. Your mother had believed as much, but who was to say she was right?

Besides, whoever this Joel Miller was didn’t sound like the man your mother had told you about. As nasty as they come didn’t have any relation to the heroic and kind and amazing father and man your mother always spoke about. Though, you knew as well as anyone what the apocalypse could do to people.

Darren didn’t say anything else to his companion. So, after a few more moments, you continued on your way, making the journey to the tiny box apartment that FEDRA had elected to you.

But even as you got there, sitting down on the poor excuse of a mattress, you couldn’t shake the conversation out of your mind. After everything you had been through to get here, what was it all for? Could you really make this journey and just never try to find Joel Miller? Your father? You could still remember the anxiety that had come when you first arrived, when you were strapped into a chair and scanned for the fungus that had taken over so many. You didn’t know what you were more scared of: the idea that it would flash red, and you’d be killed, or the idea that it would be clear, and you’d be sent out into the QZ, where you may just find the other half of your DNA.

You don’t even know if you want to find out anything about him. Don’t know if you could face that, especially after losing your mother. That’s been the hardest thing since being here, since having your own place, the fact that you’ve gotten it all without her. It feels… empty. For your whole life, she had been there at your side, making every short stay at whatever accommodation you could find feel like home.

Plus, even if you did consider trying to find him, and if it was him those people were talking about, then who the hell was Tess? What if she got upset at your appearance, your claim as Joel Miller’s surviving child? You’re not sure you can lose another parent.

Sure — Joel Miller wasn’t exactly your dad, he couldn’t be classed as a parent in the way that your mother was, but if you never met him, that could’ve been for any number of reasons. He could be dead. He could’ve thought you and your mother were dead, all these years. You didn’t want to face a reality where you met him, and he wasn’t present for you and your mother because he didn’t want to be. You’d rather live your whole life thinking him six feet under, than know he was out there, and just didn’t care about you.

The more you think about it, the more certain you are that Boston was a mistake.

It would all be different if your mother was alive. If she had brought you here, if she had been the one to hear the chatter about Joel Miller, if she had been the one to seek him out. But she was dead, and the only living connection you had to Joel was, too. Hypothetically, if you did seek him out, you didn’t know enough about him to prove your claim as his child, and without your mother, how could you make him believe you?

They had been a family, once. They being Joel, your mother, and your deceased half sister. You’d heard the tale of how Joel and your mother had met, of how it took months for him to finally feel comfortable introducing her to his little girl. Hell, you had heard almost as much about Sarah as you had about Joel. Your mother had certainly adored his daughter, and you’re somewhat sure that they had planned to have you, despite Sarah already being a teenager.

You don’t want to have to mourn a family you had never actually had. Perhaps, Joel and Sarah were out there, living their lives certain that you and your mother were dead, just as you and your mother had done.

Not that any of this even mattered — you didn’t even know for sure if it was the same Joel Miller! And even if it was, it’s not like Boston QZ was small. There’s absolutely no chance you run into the man who might just be your dad. No way.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

You find someone else, before you hear anything more about Joel Miller, and it immediately sends the thought of your biological dad to the very back of your mind.

After all, it’s not every day you see the man who murdered your mother.

It wasn’t exactly a surprise. You had guessed that this was the place he was heading, all those moons ago. But to actually see him, here, in the flesh, alive and well despite all of the pain and heartache and devastation he had caused you? It was surreal. You had to practically pinch your skin from your body to make yourself believe he was real.

And it only really hits you now, that this man killed your mother. You had been so focused on surviving, on living to see another day, on healing and moving and getting away from her body, buried in shallow dirt outside of some abandoned barn. You can vividly remember the strength it had taken to pry the frozen dirt from the ground.

Sure, you had felt the guilt over it, the guilt over the ease that came with surviving without her, guilt over your very existence, but you’re not sure you had ever actually grieved over her. Not sure if you had ever let yourself be sad, be angry, be anything about what had happened.

But now, seeing him, you feel… almost too much.

All of the rage and grief you had squashed in favour of surviving another day, all of the sadness and fear, all of it. It all comes rushing towards you at once, hitting you in the chest, winding you. You gasp for breath on the street, ducking away for a moment, gripping your chest like you could physically hold your heart steady.

When you look back out at the street, you see him as he nears the corner. Panic grips you at the thought of losing him, of never seeing him again, of failing to avenge your mother. You follow after him before you can think better of it.

It’s strangely easy. You fall back into the life of a hunter like it’s the most natural thing you’ve ever known — and maybe it is. You’re healed up, by now, or about as healed as anybody gets in this world, and your shoulder only bothers you when you move it too much. Even with that, you’re pretty sure that you could take the man on. Now that you’re not hazy with sleep, caught off guard, held back by any sort of earthly tether.

You’re strong. And despite FEDRA’s harsh reign, their dire consequences for rule-breaking, you have a switchblade stuffed into your shoe. You could do it. You could kill him.

There’s no question about it in your mind, especially as you follow him from a distance, and he remains none the wiser. He takes a left, and a moment later, so do you. He’s clueless. It’s almost painful that he was the one who managed to get the jump on you. How could you have let this man kill your mother?

He skids to a stop outside of a doorway, so you slide down the wall of the building opposite and listen. He pays you no mind as he knocks twice on the door.

“What d’you want, Colin?” The man who opened the door asked gruffly, seemingly inconvenienced by the man. He sounded tired, or out of it, maybe.

“I need the supply.” Colin answered, and the sound of his voice sent a shiver down the back of your neck. It echoed in your ears, the words he said that day. Good. Everything in you itched, like thousands of critters had dug into you and made a home scuttling around your insides. You wanted to kill him. You wanted to end his life, and you wanted to make it slow. Brutal. Painful. Even if it meant you were hung by FEDRA tomorrow morning. It’d be worth it.

The man at the door sighed, as if deeply bothered by getting Colin what he needed, and disappeared inside. He emerged a moment later, empty handed. “I’m all out. You’ll have to go across town tomorrow.” The man said flatly, saying nothing as Colin swore, before stepping away.

You ducked your head down as Colin passed, all too aware of the man in the doorway watching you suspiciously. After a moment, he sighed again, and retreated inside, slamming the door after himself. It took almost no time at all for you to push yourself back to your feet, and take off after the man who had left.

Despite your pounding footsteps against cracked concrete, he didn’t pay you any mind as you caught up to him. He seemed focused on getting to wherever it was that he was unknowingly leading you to, glancing up at the darkening sky every other step. FEDRA’s curfew would be coming into play soon enough.

To your disappointment, he walked into an apartment building, about three blocks away from your own. It seemed that, unless you were willing to risk being caught and stopped, today wasn’t the day you would be avenging your mother. You vowed that tomorrow you would do it. You would kill Colin. No matter what got in your way.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

By the time curfew was lifted, you had been waiting by the exit of your building for an hour.

The switchblade in your shoe felt heavy with every step you took towards the home of your mother’s killer. It weighed almost as much as the picture in your pocket. All of it was heavy. But you acted as normally as you could manage, passing by patrolling FEDRA guards without them so much as glancing towards you.

You were waiting by his building when the door opened, when he stepped out, and headed determinedly in the opposite direction from which you had come. You followed without a moment of hesitation.

He made his way around town, trading with a few people on the side of the streets, handing them small wads of ration cards in favour of various items. Nothing dangerous, though. Not to you. He clearly was oblivious to your loitering figure, standing a few metres away, like some omen of death. Despite your shadow reaching for his shoes as the sun rose, he didn’t flinch.

It was irritating you, just how easy this was. You had been following the man for two days now, and he hadn’t even noticed. How had he gotten the drop on you? How had he managed to kill your mother? How had you allowed him the opportunity to do so?

There was nothing remotely special about him — no reason that he should have survived over your mother, no reason that he should have been granted mercy over the last twenty years. He didn’t deserve it. Not like your mother had. She had done the best she could, for years, for the only daughter in her care. And she had done it all alone. This man, Colin, he was alone, and he had no reason to hurt her. You were going to make sure he regretted it.

You loomed at the entrance of an alleyway as he walked down it, finally stopping at a dead end, leaning against the brick wall as if he was waiting for something. Or someone. You knew it wasn’t you he was waiting for, so you bided your time, cautious of someone happening upon the two of you. If they had business with him, they would care. If they didn’t, then nobody but FEDRA would care.

By the time you finally decided to move, almost an hour had passed, and Colin was facing away from you at the entrance of the alley, head pressed to the bricks.

It was strange, what the innate desire to hunt and kill could bring out in you, that it could make you move silently without thinking about it. It could make you reach for the blade in your shoe, without so much as a rustle of your clothes.

With a final glance back at the entrance of the alleyway, you grew impatient, and you attacked.

From an outside perspective, you probably looked like some kind of wild animal. You jumped at him, tackling him, pushing him sideways and landing on his back as his shoulder smacked the asphalt, and he howled in pain. It was like seeing a cheetah hunt an antelope, the way you bored down on him. If you could have widened your jaws, and ripped out his insides, you think you would have.

But without that ability, you could only press the cold metal blade to his throat, and feel him go still.

“Do you remember me?” You asked, voice flat and still, despite the way your heart felt as though it would beat out of your chest, and splatter down in front of his face. You were quieter than you had expected, too. You thought that the words would burst out of you, vicious and unending, but they were quiet. Calm.

Colin shook his head, as much as he could with the side of his face pressed to the ground, and a blade to the soft skin of his neck.

“Think about it.”

His eyes strained to try and get a look at you, and they widened as you leant sideways slightly, allowing him to gaze at your blank face. “Oh, shit,” He said, mouth fumbling around the words.

“Yeah, shit.” You repeated, waiting for satisfaction to seep into your chest cavity, waiting for the grief to fade away.

It didn’t.

Nothing changed, even as you pressed the blade closer to his throat, even as you watched his eyes dart back and forth, as you watched him try and formulate a plan to survive. “Listen, kid—” He started, throat bobbing against the knife, drawing the tiniest line of blood. You watched him bleed, and expected to feel more than numb.

He threw your weight backwards, sacrificing more skin on his throat to your knife. You went flying off of him, but you flung yourself forward faster than he could stagger up, and dug the knife into his calf as he tried to stand. His yell pierced the air, louder than any of the commotion yet, and likely drawing attention of people out on the street. You just hoped, distantly, that FEDRA wasn’t around.

His flesh and muscle moved as you pulled the blade free, and you didn’t flinch at the squelch of blood that left him alongside it.

Colin fell back to the floor, resulting in crawling along the asphalt without care for how the small stones cut into his palms, leaving streaks of blood. “You don’t gotta do this, man, chill out!” His voice had more emotion in it than it had back when he killed your mother, which was infuriating. “It wasn’t personal!” He insisted, crawling further as you got to your feet, prowling after him similarly to the wild animal you felt like.

You’d disagree with his statement, though.

He already had your pack, you had already relinquished your gun — the only thing you refused to do was turn so you could be executed. If you were going to be killed, you were going to look your murderer in the eye. Instead of that, though, Colin had decided to make it personal. He had decided to kill your mother, to spread her brains out on the ground in front of you, to cover you in her blood, rather than spare her. And then, worse, he had let you live.

That seemed pretty personal.

“You killed my mom.” You stated, getting closer as he turned so he was facing you, watching you get closer. “D’you remember what you said to me?”

He shook his head.

“You said good. You were glad that it was my mother. Admit it, Colin. Tell the world all about how not-personal it was.”

More than anything, you wanted to feel satisfaction for how badly he was trembling beneath you, for how scared you were making him. But you just didn’t. Fear wasn’t enough. Not for what this man had done to you.

“I’m—I’m sorry.” He said, shaking, still shying away from you,

“No, you’re not. You’re sorry that I’m here, that you’re going to die. And that isn’t something to be sorry for.”

“Pl—Please, I have a daughter—a son, you don’t need to do this.” He begged, tearing up as he watched your grip on the switchblade tighten, watched you continue to approach. He was pathetic. Everything about him was pathetic.

“She had a daughter, too.”

His eyes widened as you leaped at him once again, digging your knife as deep as you could get it into his shoulder, feeling it graze bone as you pushed the hilt firmly against his skin, until you could practically hear the blood vessels breaking. He howled, a wounded animal, prey. And he did nothing as your fist descended against his face, once, twice, a third time.

It was just as you were losing count that somebody grabbed you, hauling you up and away from the body sprawled out on the floor, the puddle of blood slowly expanding beneath him. His chest was stuttering, but he had stopped groaning minutes ago.

“Well, shit.” A woman’s voice said, not sounding particularly authoritarian, so you figured she wasn’t FEDRA.

The hands grasping onto your arms released them shortly after, and you dropped to the asphalt, watching Colin’s chest closely, waiting for his breathing to stop. It didn’t seem to be slowing much, and you could feel that unending wave of rage coming back to you, overruling the numbness, and enhancing your need to have him dead.

You moved the slightest bit, about to launch yourself at him, but as soon as your foot was pushing you from your spot on the ground, the hands wrapped around your arms again.

“Fuck! Get off of me!”

“We can’t let you kill the guy, for fuck’s sake. We got business with him!” The woman spoke again, sounding increasingly irate as she moved to get between you and your mother’s murderer.

“He deserves to die. He deserves to be killed. Get off!” You practically roared, resorting to a state not unlike a feral cat, spitting and hissing, spine curling, trying to claw at the hands holding onto you. They stayed steady, even when you managed to scratch one of them deep enough to break skin.

The woman swore again, “Everybody deserves to die, get a hold of yourself!”

“Tess, ‘s probably best if we get him out of here.” The man gripping you said, voice straining slightly as he focused on keeping you restrained. He couldn’t do anything but hold on to you and watch as Tess dragged the guy, by his ankle, down the alley slightly, banging on a side door that you hadn’t even noticed. It opened, and the man inside swore before helping Tess grab the guy and haul him inside.

As soon as the door was safely shut, the man released you.

You walked to the end of the alley, gripping at the back of your head, swearing the whole way. You were probably screaming, given the way your throat was grating on every word, but the sound didn’t register.

“Joel, you’d better get in here.” Tess called, poking her head out of the door. You could hear the irritation in her voice, but it was immediately sent to the back of your mind as you realised what she had actually just said. You whirled around.

He wasn’t exactly what you were expecting.

But he was… familiar.

You couldn’t help it — you laughed, almost hysterically.

“Are you kidding me?” You said, voice strained with laughter, “You are Joel? Miller?” You asked, wanting him to say no and be done with it all so badly, but you knew that he wouldn’t say that. It was ingrained in your blood, in your very DNA.

He stared uncomprehendingly at you, as if expecting a spark of recognition to go through him, but it didn’t happen. You saw Tess step cautiously out of the building, apparently prepared to have Joel’s back, no matter what your next move was.

“Who are you?” Joel asked, instead of answering your question, or even making a move towards where you had begun to cry. If only he fucking knew — he had just saved the man who had murdered your mother, who had murdered the woman who was, once upon a time, his wife.

You reached into your pocket, uncaring of the way they both reached for what you assumed were weapons, and pulled out the photo. The moment you unfolded it, revealing him stood next to your mother, it was certain. This man was your father. You held the photo out towards him.

“Joel—” Tess warned, as he stepped forward, but he dismissed her with a look, clearly communicating that he could handle himself. He wasn’t worried, despite the state Colin had been in when they had arrived.

He stared at the photo, brows creasing, face drawing blank, before he reached out and took it. His finger ran across the image of your mother, her bright smile, not a slither of grey to be seen in her hair. “How did you get this?” He asked, clearly in disbelief, denial, maybe.

You pointed to the woman in the picture. “That’s—was my mom.”

It could’ve been funny, months, maybe years ago, the way his eyes flickered between you and the image of her, as if trying to put together how much of the statement was true. You vaguely noticed Tess shift uneasily behind him, before approaching.

“Was?” Joel decided to ask, eventually, instead of whatever else was going through his head. He said nothing to Tess as she took in the photograph he was still holding onto.

“That man, he—he killed her. A few months ago.” You said, smiling, because you couldn’t do anything else. This was all too much. First, your mother is killed. And then when you finally find somewhere potentially safe, you hear about your father. And then before you could do anything about that, you see her killer! And then, before you could finish the job, your biological dad, Joel Miller, saved his life. It wasn’t funny, but you didn’t know how else to react.

You stepped back, sliding down the brick wall behind you until you were sat on the asphalt, and could hang your head between your knees.

“Oh fuck,” Tess said, connecting the dots as she looked between you and Joel rapidly, brows furrowed as she became increasingly concerned. “Don’t tell me that she’s—” She shook her head, turning away from the photo and Joel and you, running a hand through her greasy hair.

Joel was still processing, or at least that’s what it looked like to you. He was staring at the photo, strangely still, seeming blank of any and all emotions.

Tess paced for a moment more, before releasing a heavy breath. She walked past Joel, over to you. “Okay, c’mon.” She said, holding out a hand for you. When you hesitated, she waved her hand and barely refrained from putting it in your face. “C’mon, we’ve gotta get you out of here before Colin goes to FEDRA.” You take her hand, surprised by her strength as she hauls you to your feet in an instant, releasing you immediately. She shook her head again. “Joel, time to go.”

He looked at her, and then towards you, nodding once. You said nothing when he put the picture in his own pocket, instead of handing it back. You hesitantly followed after Tess, wondering what your next move should be, and Joel followed after the two of you, looking stricken.

∘₊✧───── ───── ───── ─────✧₊∘

None of you had said anything, the entire time Tess had hurried you through borders and to what you assumed was their apartment. It felt like it was miles away from your own.

The wallpaper was yellowed with age, slowly drooping down the walls, peeling away at corners, but it wasn’t the worst state it could’ve been in. The floral pattern didn’t really lend itself to the vibes of the apocalypse, though. Nor did it match either Tess or Joel’s stoic and tough demeanours.

You had no idea what to expect from this.

For as long as you could remember, your mother had told you tales of your father, of the great man he was, the great father he was. But here, on the other side of a worldwide outbreak of infection, you couldn’t quite match the image in front of you to the man in those stories. You had spent so long thinking of him as being dead, unable to do anything to find you or your mother from a grave, that to learn he was alive, and with Tess, it was a shock to your system.

Where was Sarah? Where was the half-sister you had heard so much about from your mother?

Despite Joel matching the name, and the photo that your mother had kept, it just didn’t feel like he was the man you had been imagining as your father. He didn’t seem kind or caring, he didn’t look like he had any love left in him. And maybe, you could have accepted that, if he had other aspects to him, if he hadn’t let your mother’s killer live.

“What happened the day of the outbreak?” You asked, finally, despite the way you ached to run away and cry, for your mother, for yourself, for the father you would never have. Joel just looked at you, rarely blinking as if you were a figment of his imagination, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

“No, we are asking you questions.” Tess responded, clearly taking the lead on the situation, despite having no connection to you. It really shouldn’t have been her business. You scoffed. “Where did you come from?” She asked you, unblinking in the face of your disbelief.

You shook your head, “How is that even relevant?”

“Because I said it is.”

“I don’t care what you say. He’s my dad. You’re not my mom.” You replied, roughly, angrily, and you’re only more irritated when Tess doesn’t even react. You become furious when Joel says nothing. “Are you going to say anything?”

Tess went to speak, but you spoke again before she could utter a word.

“Not even about how you let my mother’s killer go? You don’t have anything to say about that?” You questioned, stepping towards him where he had taken a seat on the couch in front of that god-forsaken wallpaper.

There was an awkward lull in the room, each of you waiting for Joel to speak. He seemed unsure if he was going to speak at all, his brows furrowing further, and he pulled the photo out of his pocket to look at once again.

“She died, years ago. My—my kids…” Joel swallowed, and shook his head. He placed the photo down beside him. The photo meant nothing. You could’ve been to his house, and brought it here with you, never having met the woman he hadn’t seen since the day the world fell apart.

“Did you even look for us?” You asked him, head tilting, eyes stinging, wanting desperately for him to say yes, to say he scoured the world but missed you somehow. But looking at him, covered with scars, you could see he was nothing like the man your mother remembered. He didn’t care, not like she thought he had. The man in front of you wasn’t your father — he was a disappointment. He was your father’s shell.

Joel didn’t speak, swallowing harshly, seemingly unable to form any words.

“You’re nothing like she said you were.” You told him quietly, shaking your head, reaching by his side and taking the picture. You wanted to rip his half off, throw it at him, denounce him, tell him he wasn’t your father, that he was never worthy of your mother, but you couldn’t. It was the only thing that you would ever have of the father you should’ve had. The man your mother had loved. She’d already had so much taken from her, you couldn’t, even after her death, take Joel away too. He could live on in the memory. In pictures.

They didn’t say anything when you turned your back on them, shoving the picture in your pocket, and walking out of their door. You slammed it behind you, felt the walls of their apartment tremble with the force, and kept walking.

Part of you, a big part, wished that Joel Miller would have stayed dead. At least that way, you could have kept pretending.

503 notes · View notes

brodieland · 2 months

Text

.˚ 𓈒 ࣪.𝝑𝝔 Exes SUCK !! ´ˎ˗

Percy Jackson x fem!reader Synopsis: When reader found out her loser ex cheated on her, she always has her best friend to step up ! Word Count: 1018

Every night at camp half-blood, there's a campfire at 9pm where all the campers come together while the Apollo kids lead a bunch of sing-a-longs. You normally loved these, but tonight wasn't your night. About a week ago, you and your shitty ex had broken up when you found out he was cheating with some Aphrodite kid. Sure it hurt being cheated on but after months of being treated the way you were, you were just glad to finally get rid of him.

As glad as you were, now you were just kind of lonely, his toxicity drove away your friends. Even your best friend, Percy. Now, you were sitting alone by the campfire as the rest of the campers were staggering back to their cabins. While you were enjoying the warmth of the fire, you notice a familiar figure coming to take a seat next to you.

"Hey Y/N"

"Hey Percy"

Neither of you looked at each other for a few moments, still staring the fire. The silence was unbearable, you felt terrible about what happened. You never wanted to push him away, you thought you were being loved when you were just being used. Growing up as a demigod sucks when your mortal parent doesn't care for you because you are just so different from the rest of your family, constantly ignoring you hoping you would go away. Plus of course none of the gods ever really pay attention to their kids. All that gave you issues, you never felt enough. So when your ex first came into your life making you feel wanted, you jumped at it not realizing that that wasn't love.

"So.. I've heard about you and.. you know who" Percy never liked him from the start. You really wish you listened to him.

"Yeah, he who shall not be named" you chuckled as Percy turned and smiled. "I wish I listened to you about him, would've saved me so much time you know."

"Hate to say I told you so but, I told you so" he said as you jokingly glared at him.

"Haha. But really, I'm sorry for everything that happened" you said.

"You don't have to apologize" he looked at you sincerely.

"No, I do. I pushed you away all for a jerk who didn't deserve my time, and you didn't deserve that" you turned to him with a look of sadness on your face. You hated that you did that to him.

He turns to face you and grabs your cheeks making your foreheads touch to make extreme eye contact. "Y/N, it's okay, you don't have to say sorry again. You know I can't stay mad at you anyways." As you guys separated, a wash of relief floods your face as you feel your shoulders drop with satisfaction.

"I'm glad." Percy lets go of your cheeks and faces back to the camp fire. You take the opportunity and slide closer next to him, now shoulder to shoulder. You continue to lean in and he takes the chance to slide his arms over your shoulders, happy with himself when he sees that you didn't pull away, but snuggled closer. You guys were always very close together like this before you were forced to separate from him. At the end of the day, no one blames your ex for being jealous of Percy. You guys stay there for a view moments enjoying the toasty fire when you decide to finally speak up.

"I missed you, like, a lot" you whispered loud enough for the both of you to hear.

"I missed you, too Y/N" as Percy said that he held you tighter.

"You know the phrase 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'," you rambled "..yeah." You didn't know how to continue that thought out loud, it sounded less cheesy in your head but you meant what you said. Whatever it was that you said. If you were being honest with yourself, you wish it was Percy who first showed interest in you instead of.. the other guy.. but you fear it may be too late for that. While you were deep in thought, Percy was just giggling at your failed sentence.

"You sound like you have a little crush on mee" Percy dragged out the last word. Weirdly enough, he wasn't wrong, but that was also how you guys also joked. So you never thought he was serious when he said this stuff.

"Why do you think I got forced to distance from youu" you matched Percy by dragging out the last word.

"Wait, what" Percy questioned, looking down at you and you turned up and looked at him through your lashes. Percy always thought you were beautiful, so you getting a shitty boyfriend sucked for him, but he tried to push through for you. Then when he forced you and Percy to stop talking, that hurt, but he could never hate you.

"I guess it was pretty obvious how much I like you, even to my own boyfriend. Funny isn't it. I thought since you didn't like me back it was time to try moving on, it didn't work out though" you got quiet as you finished your sentence. Then Percy stared at you wide eyed with with mouth gaped open.

"Is it too soon to finally kiss you" Percy said, grateful he didn't stammer his sentence out of nerves. That's when you quickly sat up, grabbed his face and slammed it on yours. It was amazing, between the tension that was constantly building up mixed with the relaxing sound of the crackling fire behind you, it was perfect. You guys were moving together in rhythm before you pulled apart remembering your need for air. As you guys were panting for air you looked at each other and smiled, then you spoke up.

"Why was I wasting my time before" you joked.

"Your decisions making skills were never the best, that's why I'm here for you, always" Percy kissed your forehead as you both began to stand up and walk hand in hand back to your cabins.

#percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson #percy jackson pjo #percy pjo #percy series #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson x you #percy jackson fluff

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punkette1026 · 3 months

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You Are Not My Mom!

Summary:

Lately, you and Joel noticed that Sarah has become withdrawn. You are both at a loss of what to do when an incident at schools reveals how Sarah currently feels towards you and how she feels about her current position in the growing Miller family.

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Bullying

Words:8,539

Pedro Pascal Master List

You Are Not My Mom Masterlist

Author's Notes:

I really hope that you enjoy this one. This one was hard to write. And thank you to @beardedjoel for all the help with this one. And yes I know Sarah is a sweet baby angel, but it will make sense.

You woke up feeling horrible yet again. You had spent the last hour of the early morning in the fetal position of the bathroom floor. You had tried your best to not wake your sleeping husband in the other room. He had a big day at work later on in the day and you wanted him to get as much rest as he could. He had been working so hard lately to provide for your growing family but promised you that at the end of the day, it would be worth it. However, despite your best attempts to stay quiet, Joel had woken up missing your warmth beside him.

“Jesus doll, why didn’t you wake me?” his sleepy deep voice echoed through the bathroom.

“I…I…shit, you need to rest,” you struggled to say as another bout of nausea hit you.

Joel, the ever-so-loving husband that he was, was by your side in an instant, making sure that he held your hair back for you. “I’m getting real worried about you doll. This is the third time this week that I have found you like this. What time is your appointment on Monday?”

“At nine I think,” you groaned, resting your head back against his chest. “I know work is busy right now, so I understand if you can’t come with me. I can always ask Maria if she can go with me. I promise you that I won’t find out the genders without you.”

Sighing, he pulled you into his arms and placed a gentle kiss on your head, “Like hell I’m going to miss it doll. Tommy can handle things for a while. I need to ask the doctor some questions regarding this whole morning sickness thing anyways. I need to make sure you and the little ones are okay. I don’t know what I would do if something happened to you, them, or Sarah. You four are my whole world.”

When it came to the health and safety of his family, Joel didn’t play around. He would drop anything at the drop of a dime if you guys needed something. Looking down at where his hands were rubbing small circles on your belly, you couldn’t help but smile. You couldn’t believe how in just a few short months, your family of three would be a family of five. It came as quite a shock to everyone when the doctor told you that you were expecting twins. Neither side of your family had twins in them so when the doctor announced it, you stared at her like she had two heads and Sarah tried her hardest to keep Joel from passing out. You were all excited though and had plenty of love to go around.

Once you felt well enough to move without feeling sick to your stomach, Joel helped you to your feet and walked you over to the sink to help you clean up. He then guided you back to the bed, making sure that you were sitting up slightly before placing a kiss to your lips. Doing the same thing as he did all the other nights, he went downstairs to grab you some ginger ale and crackers for you. Those always seemed to help settle your stomach.

While downstairs, he tried his best to keep quiet, however the sound of someone entering the kitchen and turning the lights on startled him. “Dammit Sarah! Give your old man a warning will you,” he whispered loudly clutching his chest. “What are you doing up?”

“Sorry, but it's hard to sleep when you keep dropping things and cussing up a storm,” she groaned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “What are you doing in here?”

“Your mom isn’t feeling good again, so I’m trying to find her some of those crackers that she likes. Do you know where they are? I know that I saw some here.”

“Oh, those crackers, I umm...I sort of ate them, sorry,” she winced.

“Really Sarah, I thought I told everyone not to touch them. That’s why I tried to hide them,” he growled. “I guess I’ll just have to go after work and pick up a box or two. We are running low on ginger ale. Do you need anything?”

Sarah shook her head, “No I don’t and why can’t she go to the store herself? She is the one that needs them. I only ate them because dinner was disgusting anyways.”

“Okay first off, watch your tone young lady. Your mom worked hard on that dinner. Second, I don’t want her overdoing it this weekend. I want her to take it easy till her appointment. Which brings me to something that I want to talk about. Come here, sit down,” he told her as he pulled out a chair for her. “Listen Sarah, you know how much I love you and you know how much I enjoy the time we spend together. However, considering how you have been acting lately and how I really need to be here in case your mother gets sick again, I think it’s best that we cancel our brunch date tomorrow.”

Ever since you came into her life when she was five years old, you had always made sure that Joel had put his daughter above everything else. You were the one coming into the family, after all. It had always been her and Joel and you didn’t want Sarah to feel like you were taking her dad away from her. So, you encouraged Joel to do something special with her. That’s why on the first Saturday of the month, Joel would take Sarah out for brunch and to do some shopping. Now with the babies coming, you encouraged it even more as she was going to have to get used to sharing both of your attention.

Joel watched as Sarah’s face fell. “What, no!”

“Will you hush,” he tried to quiet his daughter. “Look I’m sorry to do it Sarah, but I have no choice. You haven’t been on your best behavior lately and that attitude of yours needs to change. I know you are going through some changes, but you need to let us in and help you though. I know your mom is really worried about you too. I promise you though as soon as I see a change in you and your mom starts feeling better, then maybe we can see about rescheduling. Right now, though, it isn’t a good time to reward you, Sarah. I hope you understand that.”

“But...but...ugh! This is so not fair!” she growled as she ripped herself away from the table and away from him. Then like she used to do when she was little, she stomped her feet all the way to her room before slamming the door behind her.

All Joel could do was shake his head in disappointment. That was the type of behavior that he was talking about. Normally Sarah was a great kid. She never talked back and was always fun to be around. She was always one to put a smile on your face. As of late, however, she had this newly found attitude and walked around like she had a chip on her shoulder. Every time he tried to ask her what was going on Sarah would snap at him and storm off. Like he said, something was going to have to change soon.

Sighing and grabbing the can of ginger ale, Joel ventured back upstairs hoping that you didn’t hear his little spat with Sarah. That was the last thing that he thought would happen at three in the morning. Thankfully when he got back, you were already dozing off. Walking over to your nightstand, he placed the can of ginger ale there just in case you needed it before going over to his side of the bed.

“C’mere,” you called out to him, knowing that you couldn’t fully fall asleep until he was next to you again.

Giving you that dimpled smile that you fell in love with, he got back under the covers and curled himself into you, resting his head on your chest. “Sorry I took so long doll.”

“It’s okay baby. What happened down there? Heard a door slam,” you tiredly whispered, closing your eyes again.

Joel leaned up and placed a kiss underneath your jaw, “Well I was trying to find you your things and I guess I woke Sarah up. We ended up getting into it a little bit when I told her that I’m canceling tomorrow. She didn’t like what I had told her, so she stormed off back to her room. She is not happy with me right now.”

“What, why are you canceling?”

“Because she honestly doesn’t deserve it. Not with the way that she is acting. I told her that until she does, we won’t be doing anything until then. Besides, I want to be here in case your morning sickness starts up again.”

Shaking your head, you sat up a little bit, not wanting to have this conversation laying down. “While I do agree that she needs to change her attitude, I don’t think you should have canceled Joel. That is your special time with her. I’m really worried about her, Joel.”

“I’m really worried about her too Y/N, but I just don’t think we should be rewarding her for her bad attitude and disrespect. All that’s going to do is teach her that she can get away with it. I honestly think that we should have tried to discipline her in some other way already."

I know but we can’t look back, only forward. I really think that you could have used that time with her one on one to find out what is going on with her Joel. And as much as I appreciate it baby, please don’t throw me into the mix. Do not cancel on my behalf. I am fine I swear and besides, Maria and I have plans to start cleaning out the office for the nursery. I don’t need you hovering over me Joel, I got this. What we really need to be focusing on is Sarah.”

Like always, Joel couldn’t help but chuckle to himself. Somehow you always were the voice of reason when it came to his bright ideas. You were always the one to set him straight. “What would I do without you doll?” he smiled at you. “You are right, and I messed up. I’ll talk to Sarah again on the way to school. We really do need to figure this out, I agree. But the question is how? We have both tried talking to her and look at what’s happened so far. If we do go out tomorrow, I don’t think we are going to do much talking. Has she said anything to you lately? I talked to her soccer coach, and she said Sarah has been acting fine at practice.”

“I can’t tell if you are being serious or being funny Joel. You know Sarah hasn’t spoken to me much in weeks. I’m lucky if I can get a hi out of her these days. I don’t know what I did to make her hate me. She won’t even look me in the eye anymore. “All you wanted to know was what the issue was, so you could fix it. You missed how close you and Sarah used to be. She was and will always be your number one girl after all.

“I know doll and I’m sorry. I’m getting really tired of the disrespect towards you. You are her mother and from where I’m standing, you have done nothing wrong and don’t deserve to be treated this way. The only thing that I could think of that could work, is maybe having Tommy or Maria talk to her? It seems like that is the only thing that we haven’t tried yet,” he said tiredly running his hand through his hair.

That might actually be a good idea, you thought to yourself. You remembered back to when you were her age and knew how hard it could be to talk to your parents. It sometimes helped to talk to someone on the outside how could give you a new perspective on things. “Yes, I definitely think that we should do that. Just please Joel, do not cancel tomorrow. You go have a fun time with Sarah and don’t worry about me alright,” you smiled at him as you cupped his face. You loved that patchy beard of his.

Joel leaned forward and gently placed a kiss to your lips, “I promise doll and I’ll explain it all to Sarah on the way to school later.”

“Good, now let’s get some rest. You have a big day ahead of you, mister, and I need you well rested. I know how hard you and Tommy have worked hard for this chance.” You and Joel knew that this meeting was going to change everyone’s life if all went according to plan.

Pulling you into him again, Joel cuddled his face into your neck, “I’ll be fine doll. You know that I’m used to having barely any little sleep.” He then gently pushed you back down on the bed and hovered over you, “However if you want me to get some sleep, I think we could work something out.”

“You are insatiable Joel Miller, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The next time you woke up, Joel was long gone. His side of the bed was already cold and the smell of him on his pillow was beginning to fade. You couldn’t help but smile as you stretched out in the bed with that sweet ache between your thighs still there.

As you sat up and held the sheet to your bare chest, you looked over to check the time and saw a piece of paper waiting for you. Smiling to yourself, you picked it up and you felt your heart skip a beat as you recognized Joel’s sexy handwriting written neatly on the page:

Good morning doll,

You made it hard for me to leave this morning. You looked so beautiful. I still can’t believe you are mine. I feel like the luckiest man in the world. Do me a favor and try to take it easy today please. I’ll call you later as soon as we are done. And as promised, I talked to Sarah this morning as I made coffee. We are planning to have brunch and a movie tomorrow. Hopefully that will open her up. I swear I saw a small smile when I told her. I love you and the kiddos so much. Call me if you need anything please. See you in a bit.

Love your man,

Joel

Happy tears ran down your cheeks as you reread his note again. That husband of yours had such a way with words. With every note that he wrote to you over the years, you fell more and more in love with him.

Even the babies felt their daddy’s love as you could feel their flutters in your belly, “I know little ones, I’m already missing him too. Hopefully he will work this out with your sister, and everything will be alright from here on out. Mommy is really worried about her.” And you still wouldn’t stop worrying about her. She would always be your baby girl.

After deciding on a long shower, you slowly got out of bed and got your day started. You were going to do some light cleaning and spend the rest of the day on the couch per Joel's request. However, as you made your way down the stairs to start vacuuming, a knock on your door stopped you in your tracks. You were expecting anyone so you were curious as to who it could be.

“Morning neighbor!” Your sister-in-law greeted you as you opened the door for her.

“Morning Maria!” Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here? I thought I wasn't going to see you until later tonight.” you asked in surprise. “Didn't you have to work today?”

“Oh well I did, but I decided to take the day off. Perks of being your own boss. Figured that if it was alright with you, we could get a start on cleaning out the nursery or just hang out.”

While you were grateful that she thought of you and was willing to make time for you, you couldn't help but feel like there was an ulterior motive. “Or... Joel asked you to come over, didn't he?” You knew that husband of yours so well.

Maria dramatically sighed and threw her hands up, “I knew it, I told him that you would figure it out. I told him that you were smarter than that. I'm sorry Y/N.”

“Don't worry about it. I should have known that he was going to pull a stunt like this. I'm glad that you are here though. I really need your help with something else,” you said nervously as you walked her over to the couch. “I need your help with Sarah.”

“Yeah of course, what's going on? I know that Joel had mentioned to Tommy that you're having a hard time with her lately. I know being a teenager is hard these days and I certainly do not miss being one.”

“Me either, it was exhausting. But I don't remember being so closed off as her. Neither Joel nor I can get more than a sentence or two out of her. All she does is just stare at that damn phone of hers and stays in her room listening to music. We are at a loss here Maria. We talked it over earlier this morning and we would really appreciate it if you or Tommy could talk to her for us. I really think it would be better if it was you specifically, because I think talking to another woman would help rather than just talking to her mom. I love Tommy and all, but...”

“Sometimes he doesn't take things seriously, I know. Lord help us for when we have kids,” Maria rolled her eyes. “But yes, I would be happy to help. I'll let her know that whatever she tells me will be in confidence but if it's something that I'm concerned with, I will have to tell you guys.”

For the first time in weeks, you breathed a fresh breath of air. You really hoped that Maria was going to be the godsend that you were looking for when it came to getting Sarah to open up. “Thank you, Maria, thank you, thank you. We seriously appreciate it and I'm sure Joel will be happy to hear that you're going to help us.”

Maria just smiled and pulled you into a hug, “you're welcome girly and don't mention it. Now about the nursery...”

Unfortunately, Maria was unable to finish her sentence as your phone interrupted her plans. Thinking it was Joel, you quickly answered it hoping it was good news, “hello?”

“Hello, this is Principal Ramona over at the high school. Are you Y/N Miller?” Okay so it wasn't Joel.

“Umm... Yes, it is. How may I help you, Principal Ramona?” Your stomach dropped as it was rare for the school to call.”

“Well, I wish I was calling under better circumstances Mrs. Miller, but we unfortunately had an incident with Sarah, and we need you to come down here to the school.”

You knew you had heard her right, but for some reason, your mind wasn't comprehending it, “I... I'm sorry but can you repeat that?”

“Mrs. Miller, I can explain it all when you get here. Sarah is fine so there's no need to worry. We just need you to come here as soon as you can. “We tried calling her father, but there was no answer,” Principal Ramona replied.

You ran your hand through your hair and shook your head in disbelief, “Yes that is to be expected as he is working right now, but I will make it down there as soon as I can. Can you at least tell me what happened?”

“Mrs. Miller, I'd rather just talk about this face to face. So, we will see you soon. Goodbye.”

As soon as you hung up or rather got hung up on. You couldn't help but let out a frustrated groan. “What, what's wrong?” Maria had overheard bits and pieces and from what she could gather, she knew it wasn't good.

“Well, that was the school that called, sounds like Sarah is currently in the principal's office right now. What has gotten into that girl Maria?”

“All right well first I think it's best that you try to calm down. There is no need to freak out yet without knowing any more details. Let's just get to the school and we'll see what happens okay,” Maria said calmly. “Where are your keys I'm driving?”

“They're in the office, I think. Do you think I should call Joel?” Your mind was running 1,000,000 miles a minute, so it was hard to think straight and think of what to do next.

Maria thought about it for a second and knew that it would probably be for the best. “Yeah, I think you should give him a heads up, but let him know that I'm with you and that we have everything under control. I don't need both of you freaking out on me and Tommy.”

That was definitely an understatement. Poor Tommy and Maria had unofficially become your families emotional support people over the years, “Yeah, you're right and thanks again Maria, you're a lifesaver.”

“Don't mention it. Now let's go!”

The drive to the school was certainly a long one indeed. It was only a 20 minute drive, but the fear of the unknown made it feel like time had slowed. You tried to be calm though as you knew having a level head would only be beneficial to Sarah.

“Did you want me to go with you?” Maria asked as she parked the car.

“No, I think I could handle it. I'll text you though if I need backup. Speaking of which, let me text Joel before I head in.”

‘Hey babe, there's an issue at Sarah school. Sounds like she is fine, but something happened. I have Maria with me. I'll text you when we are done. Love you and good luck!’

As you put your phone away and major way inside the school, the hallways were packed with kids making their way to their next classes. Just the sight and smell alone sent shivers down your spine. You didn’t enjoy high school at all. You remembered all the times you were bullied and sat alone at lunch, and you prayed with all your heart that Sarah was having a better high school experience than you.

Bumping past the sea of students, you finally made it to the office where a young woman was busy typing away at her computer. “Hello, I'm Y/N Miller. I'm here to see Principal Ramona. My daughter Sarah, is in her office I believe,” you said nervously.

“Ahh yes ma’am. She is indeed expecting you. Please have a seat and I will let her know that you are here.”

Nodding your head, you took a seat, nervously tapping your foot. “It’s okay little ones, mommy is going to sort this out with your sister and then we can go home and relax,” you whispered as you felt their flutters start up again.

You then heard a door open up and out walked an older gray-haired woman with too much makeup on her face, “Hello, you must be Mrs. Miller. I’m Principal Ramona. Thank you for coming. Please come in.”

You quickly stood up and shook her hand, “You’re welcome, Principal Ramona, and again, thank you for calling. How is she?”

“Sarah is fine Mrs. Miller. See for yourself,” she opened the door back up and invited you back into her office.

That’s when you finally got to see Sarah sitting there with her arms crossed looking miserable. “Wait, you called her?!” Sarah said angrily when she saw you. You couldn’t lie when her response had taken you back just a little. “I thought you said that you called my dad?!”

“Sarah Miller, sit down right now! You are in enough trouble as it is,” Principal Ramona scolded her. “Your father was unable to attend our little get together, so I had to call your mother instead. Is that going to be an issue?” It looked like Sarah had mumbled something under her breath, but she eventually gave in and sat back down. “That’s better. Please Mrs. Miller, have a seat. We have a lot to discuss.”

Taking a seat next to your daughter, you tried to reach out and take her hand, but Sarah pulled away and moved her chair away from you. “Sarah, what’s going on? Talk to me baby. You used to do it all the time. Your father and I are really worried about you.” As usual though, she said nothing, but this time, you could see tears in her eyes.

“Don’t worry Mrs. Miller, she hasn’t said much since we brought her in here. From what I have been told by some of her fellow teachers, Sarah has taken quite a turn here. They report that she has become withdrawn, has various missing assignments, and today she got into a confrontation with another student during the passing period and physically assaulted another student.”

“Wait, wait, wait, I’m sorry Principal Ramona, but I’m finding it very hard to believe any of that, especially the assault part. Sarah has never been the fighting type. There has to be some other explanation.” There was just no way none of this happened. There was no way that things were actually this bad at school too.

Principal Ramona just sighed and shook her head, “Well I’m afraid that it is true Mrs. Miller. These are just several complaints from her teachers. We were going to set up a meeting with you and your husband to go over everything, but Sarah’s little transgression beat us to it.”

She then handed you the list of complaints. “I...I...I don’t know what to say Principal Ramona. Sarah, do you want to explain these to me?” Once again, silence. “Alright then, what about the fight? Do you want to tell me what started it or why you hit her? Whatever the reason was Sarah, I’m sure we can figure it out.”

Sarah continued to stare straight ahead, but this time as she frustratedly wiped the tear that fell from her face she spoke, “She...she...ugh, what does it even matter anyway? Can we just go home? I don’t want to be in this stupid place anymore. Everyone sucks!” It may not have been what you wanted to hear, but at least she acknowledged you and this situation finally.

“Sarah sweetheart, I know you are upset, but...”

“But I’m afraid Sarah is right Mrs. Miller,” the principal interrupted you rudely. She didn’t even seem to care that Sarah had almost opened up. “No matter what happened, it doesn’t change the fact that Sarah attacked another student. I’m afraid that I have to take some serious action now.”

“How serious are we talking about?”

“Well, since this is Sarah’s first violation, I’m willing to take that into consideration. So, I think a week’s suspension should do. During that time, Sarah will be responsible for completing all her missing assignments that her teachers are willing to let her make up. I also haven’t spoken to her soccer coach yet, but I would assume that a suspension from the team will also be put in place.”

Sarah’s eyes grew wide as she immediately stood up, “What, no please! I’m sorry, okay, I’m really sorry. I’ll take the suspension, but don’t take away soccer!”

“Principal Ramona, look I understand that what Sarah did was wrong, and I promise that she will be punished, but you said that this was her first violation. Surely, we can think of something else. Like maybe detention every day for the next month and she still gets to do soccer. It seems that it’s the only thing that is making her happy at the moment.”

However, it seemed that the principal had already made her mind up, “I’m sorry Mrs. Miller, but that simply will not do. I would expect our parents to understand our rules and regulations. Maybe next time Sarah will think about the consequences of her actions and not act so irrational.”

“I didn’t act irrationally! She got into my face and got what she deserved. She has been....never mind, but this is still not fair! I hate this school!” Sarah said, getting upset once again. She then grabbed her things and stormed out of the office. She didn’t even seem to care that she pushed you out of her way.

Your cheeks grew red with embarrassment at your daughter’s outburst, “ I am so sorry Principal Ramona. Her father and I will work on this behavioral issue. I just wish that you would reconsider. Are we sure we don’t know anything else about the fight?” The more information you had to share with Joel, the better.

“Unfortunately, no one would say what it was about. Both Sarah as well as the girl and group of friends refuse to say anything. I have already sent the other girl home, so I’m afraid that we cannot ask her again.”

“So that’s it then? My daughter gets suspended without any further investigation. What if she was defending herself? What about the other girl, was she punished?” You couldn’t believe this.

Principal Ramona shook her head in disapproval, “Mrs. Miller, I cannot disclose that information. But please, let’s not make this harder than it has to be. My mind has already been made up. Now here is a folder of all her missing assignments. My receptionist will be in touch to schedule a meeting between us as well as your husband to discuss Sarah returning to school.”

“Yes, I’m sure my husband would definitely like to discuss this further. Thank you for being such a caring and understanding educator,” you said sarcastically as you snatched the folder from her hand. You didn’t even tell her goodbye as you left in search of your daughter. Thankfully you found her by the front door waiting for you, “You okay there kiddo? That principal of yours isn’t very friendly. I can see why you don’t like her.”

“Look, can we just go home now,” she pouted as she pushed open the door. “Where are you parked?”

“Well Maria brought me here and it’s parked over there. Look Sarah despite whatever grudge is that you have against me at the moment. You do know that I’m here to help you right. I love you so much and I don’t...”

“Just stop will you. I’m not in the mood. I just want to go home,” she snapped at you, storming off towards Maria’s direction. All you could do was just shake your head as you followed behind her. There had to be a better way to get through to her. Hopefully a little one on one with Maria would still work.

Once you got back to the car, Sarah was already buckled up and didn’t even bother to greet her aunt. “That bad huh?” Maria asked, knowing that she just got the cold shoulder.

“A week's suspension and a possible suspension from the soccer team too,” you sighed as you got in. “The principal was a real bitch. Now Joel and I need to have another meeting with her soon.”

“Well, that sucks. I know Joel isn’t going to be too happy. How about you, are you feeling okay?” She noticed you rubbing your head and taking deep breaths.

“Yes, just have a headache coming on,” you weakly smiled. As Maria started the car, you pulled out your phone to make sure that you updated Joel.

Hey babe, so Sarah is suspended. Got into some sort of a fight and there are some other issues that she has been having as well. I have it covered though. I’ll just have her work on some homework and do some chores till you get home and we can discuss any further punishment. Love you!

Once you sent him the message, you leaned your head back and closed your eyes. Your day of relaxation was not going according to plan at all.

By the time that you got home, you didn’t even realize that you had dozed off. Maria had gently nudged your arm and when you opened your eyes, to your surprise, Joel was standing there by his truck waiting.

Once the car was parked, you were quick to get out and walk over to him in confusion, “Hey, what are you doing here? I thought I said I had it covered. What about the meeting?”

Joel wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into a hug. What you didn’t see was him glaring at Sarah as she stayed back hiding behind the car. “Yeah, well none of that matters right now. I told them that Tommy was going to handle things while I attended to a family emergency.”

“Well as upset as I am, I'm glad that you are here. Let's just try to be calm about this okay. This isn’t the ideal situation for anyone right now.” You didn’t want this to become a shouting fest and end up getting nowhere.

“Fine, but I'm not very happy with her right now.” He then motioned for Sarah to come over. Sarah didn't dare look at her father as she got closer. Her eyes remained on the ground the entire time. “Living room NOW, Sarah. We'll be in shortly.” Sarah just nodded and walked inside without saying a word.

“Do you want me to leave? I can come back later when Tommy gets home,” Maria then approached. She didn’t want to overstep her bounds by hanging around.

Joel shook his head and gave her an appreciative smile, “No you can stay and thank you for everything Maria.”

“Don't mention it. That's what family does. I can still talk to her if you guys need me too. I don't mind.”

“That would be great. I think we are going to need all the help that we can get,” you sighed as you all turned to go join Sarah.

Doing exactly what she was told, Sarah sat on the couch waiting. It broke your heart to see what was happening. All you wanted to do was take her into your arms and tell her that everything was going to be okay.

Instead you took a seat next to her while Joel sat on the coffee table in front of her. Maria decided to sit at the bar behind in case she needed to step in. “Sarah,” Joel led off. “First off, I don't think I have to tell you how disappointed I am with you right now. We are going to sit here and talk it out. We have played enough games with you.”

“Your father is right Sarah. We have let this go on long enough. If there is something that you need to get off of your chest, go ahead and do it. I'm sure we will understand. Does it have to do with school? You seemed pretty unhappy to be there.”

Joel nodded in agreement and reached out to take her hand, “Please Sarah. I don't like seeing this side of you. The disrespect, the fighting, this isn't my little girl. Where is the happy-go-lucky, always positive daughter that usually gets after me when I’m in a bad mood? We want her back Sarah, and we can't do that unless you tell us what is wrong.”

“You don’t get it do you?” Sarah mumbled quietly and ripped her hand from Joel. “I don't want to talk about it, and I certainly don't want to talk to you about it Y/N!”

“Sarah!” Maria gasped behind you.

“Stop asking me what's wrong. Stop trying to get me to talk to you. I don’t want anything to do with you. You are NOT my mom, so stop trying to act like it!” She then got up and ran to her room, leaving all three of you behind stunned.

Joel immediately turned towards you, “Y/N doll…I…”

“No Joel, just go. You need to go be with her,” you choked out. It felt like someone stabbed you in the heart and ripped it out of you.

“But doll…”

Maria came over around the couch and pulled you up to her, “No Joel, Y/N is right. Go to Sarah. I got this.”

“Please,” you cried into Maria's chest.

With a hurt look on his face, Joel nodded and headed down the hall, leaving you to break down in Maria's arms.

Storming his way down the hallway, Joel ripped the bedroom door open. “You have some nerve, Sarah Miller. What the hell was that?” Sarah just continued to sit on her bed and pulled her squish mellow closer to her. “Never in my life have I heard you say something so disrespectful. I have taught you better than that. Can't you see that she is trying her hardest here? Hell, we all are. We are really worried about you Sarah.” He then went and took a seat on her bed next to her, “I really need you to try and work with me Sarah. I’m not doing this anymore. I’m not going to lose my happiness because you are determined to make our lives miserable. I’m also too drained to yell or scream at you if that is what you are afraid of, so we are just going to sit here and talk.”

“And if I don’t want to talk?”

Joel sighed and ran his hands down his tired face, “Then we will sit here Sarah. I am prepared to do whatever it is to get through to you, even if that means just sitting here waiting. You wanted my undivided attention, while now you have it.”

Sarah finally looked up and made eye contact with her father. A tinge of guilt overcame her as she could see the disapproval on his face. “The…the fight today, it was...it was nothing dad. I just got tired of that girl running her mouth, so I did what I thought was right. I was tired of her and her friends treating me like crap. They are the biggest bullies in the school. I was only defending myself; I swear.”

“Jesus Sarah, then why didn’t you say anything? If you would have told me or Y/N that you were being bullied, we would have put an end to it. We would have gone straight to the school and talked it over with the principal.”

“Because it would have just made things worse dad! They would have called me a snitch and made my life even worse. I’d rather just handle things myself. I don’t need my parents handling things for me. I’m not a little kid,” she huffed.

“But yet here you are acting like one Sarah. Instead of being the bigger person and saying something, you just made things worse for yourself. Now does this bullying situation have to do with how you have been acting around your mother and the whole not my mom thing? Because let’s face it Sarah, no matter what you may think, Y/N is and will always be your mother,” Joel said sternly.

Sarah stayed quiet for a second like she was pondering her answer, but eventually gave him a small nod. “Yeah, I guess.”

How could this be Y/N’s fault? “Then I need you to explain to me how this is your mother’s fault Sarah? What could she have possibly done to get you bullied at school?”

He watched as Sarah got up and walked over to her desk where she picked up a binder that had a whole bunch of family photos on the front cover. “It’s because of this dad,” she said, handing it to him. “I was in English class when that group of girls walked by and saw my binder. They asked me if that was my sister in the picture with me and you. I said no, that was my mom, and they began to make all sorts of comments. They asked if I was adopted, because I didn't look like her and that she was too pretty to be my mom. How mom must have been disappointed to have a daughter like me.” The last part caused Sarah to burst into tears.

Joel quickly took her into his arms, “Come here baby girl, I got you. Just let it out.” Oh, how much he wanted to go to the school right now and give them and those girls a piece of his mind. How dare they choose his daughter of all people to pick on! Someone was going to pay when this was all said and done. Right now, though, he had to focus all his attention on his daughter.

“Sarah baby, I need you to listen to me okay. I know for a fact that nothing that they said is true. You are a beautiful girl, and we are damn lucky to have you in our lives. They are just insecure little girls. That's why they pick on others. Their parents never taught them better.”

“But…but…it's true!” Sarah cried harder. “No matter what we say or do, Y/N will never actually be my real mom. No matter how much we both want it. I’ll always just be her step daughter. When those babies are born, they are going to be a part of you and her. I'll only be just yours, dad. I'm the odd one out.”

Joel’s heart broke as he heard the pain in his daughter's voice, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but be disappointed again with her listening to what her peers thought instead of listening to what she knew was the truth. “Now you listen, and you listen good. Blood does not mean shit. It doesn’t always make you family. So, what if you don’t have Y/N’s blood running in your veins? You know that Y/N doesn't care that biologically you aren't hers. She still loves you just as much as she loves those babies. She would die for you if she had to. If she didn’t care, she wouldn’t have tried to convince me to keep our date for tomorrow, she wouldn’t have gone to the school to fight for you, and she certainly wouldn’t be in the living room with her heart broken right now. You are her little girl, Sarah. Did you know that for your birthday, she was going to give you her great grandmother’s locket? That locket has been passed down to every first born daughter and she was finally ready to give it to you and that when you have a daughter of your own, you could give it to her. I’m sorry Sarah, but I don’t think she would do all of those things if she didn’t believe that she was your mom. To me, you are the luckiest girl in the world to have her in your life Sarah. ”

Sarah listened to every word that her father said and knew that it was true, despite how she made things out to be. She knew that she should have never listened to those girls. They only wanted to cause trouble. “I'm sorry dad, I really am. I didn't mean to be a jerk to you and especially mom. I guess I just let everything get the best of me. I promise that it won't happen again.”

“Good, and if anything like this happens again, I want you to tell us so we can put an end to this. Now your punishment…”

Sarah's head shot up in disbelief, “What, I'm still being punished?”

“Oh yes you are,” Joel smiled. “You got into a fight at school today young lady.”

“Yeah, I guess that's fair. What is it?”

He got up and took her phone off of her desk, “Well you won't be needing this for a while. I'm also going to need you to unplug this computer and put it in the kitchen. If you need a computer, you can use your mom's laptop, only for homework though.”

“Okay I will. Should I apologize to mom now?”

“No, I need to go check on her first. When things calm down a bit more, then you can. I love you Sarah, but please, don't let this happen again.”

“I know dad and I won’t, I promise,” she then gave Joel a big hug before he left to check on you.

When he got back to the living room, you and Maria were nowhere to be found. Thinking that you went upstairs, he ran up only to be greeted by an empty room.

‘What the fuck?’ he thought to himself as he ran back downstairs.

He was confused beyond hell on where you could be. That's when sitting on the kitchen counter, he saw a note waiting for him. It read:

Joel baby,

You know that I love you with all my heart and nothing is going to change that. But I think that it's for the best that I leave for the night. I don't need to be here causing added drama or tension. I never meant to do anything to make Sarah think or feel like she wasn't my daughter Joel. Just let her know that I'm sorry and if she wants to talk, I'll be there for her. I really hope that we can get past this. I love you Joel and I'll see you in the morning.

Love,

Your doll

“Son of a bitch!” Joel shouted as he crumbled up the paper in his hand. There was no way that you just did that.

“Dad, is everything okay?” Sarah asked, peeking out from her room.

“I don't know, just…just stay here. I'll be right back,” then without another word, he ran out of the house leaving a confused Sarah behind.

Like a mad man, he ran next door to his brother's house and began banging on the door, “Y/N! Y/N!” he shouted. “Please let me in. We need to talk!” He then tried to open the door, but it was locked. “Please doll, I know that you are hurting, but it's not what you think. I talked to Sarah, and we sorted this whole thing out!”

He paused for a second when he heard the lock move, however instead of you, it was an angry Maria behind the door, “Jesus Joel, will you calm down! Someone is going to call the police.”

“I'm sorry Maria, but I really need to see Y/N please. I can't believe you let her leave like that!” he snapped at her.

“Look Joel, I didn’t have a choice! After you left to be with Sarah, Y/N just broke down and began having a panic attack. I couldn’t get her to calm down. She said that she couldn't stay there and that she needed to leave. So, I helped pack her an overnight bag and brought her over. This really isn’t healthy for her or the babies Joel.”

“I know Maria and that's why I need to speak with her. I need to let her know that it's okay for her to come home now. I talked to Sarah, and everything is okay. I need her to come home, so Sarah can apologize,” Joel pleaded with her. “If she doesn’t want to come home tonight, then that's fine. I just need to explain things to her.”

Maria just gave him a sympathetic smile and hugged him, “I'm glad that you worked things out Joel, but I'm still not going to let you in. Y/N is asleep right now. She ended up not feeling well again, so I sent her to bed. Maybe when she wakes up, I'll tell her that you came for her okay. Just go home for now.”

Joel tried to reach out and stop the door from closing, but it was too late. Maria had already closed and locked it. He didn't mean to, but his emotions got the best of him, and he punched the door as hard as he could. He didn't even care if his knuckles and hand were throbbing as he walked back to his house. It was better than the ache in his heart that he was having.

When he got back, Joel found Sarah standing there with your note in her hand and tears pouring down her face. “Did she really leave dad?”

“Come here,” he called out to her and held her, “Yes, she did baby girl, but she'll be back later or in the morning. She just wasn't feeling good and went to Maria's to lie down and give us some space. Once she gets back, we can get things between you two all sorted out. I don't want this to worry you, okay. Everything is going to be fine.”

“Okay. I love you dad.”

“I love you two baby girl. Now why don't you go to your room and work on some homework. I'll see about making us some lunch or something in a second.”

Sarah just nodded and walked back to her room feeling more guilty than before. Despite what Joel had said. Grabbing her book bag, she went to go sit at her desk and work, but that's when a turned over picture frame caught her eye. Flipping it over, she saw that it was a picture of you and her that Joel had taken at the courthouse when you officially adopted her when she was seven.

That's when she knew what she had to do. She had to get her mom back and get things back to where they needed to be. So, hoping that Joel wouldn’t be too mad at her, Sarah opened her window and climbed out. She then nervously walked across the lawn to Maria's. However instead of heading to the front door, she tried the guest room window first to see if you were in there.

Thankfully there you were asleep on the bed with a cold compress on your head. Taking a deep breath, Sarah nervously tapped on the window hoping you would stir. It took a couple of attempts, but after the third or fourth try, you finally woke up and pulled the compress off your eyes.

Rolling over, you looked towards the window and Sarah was staring at you. “What the heck?” you said out loud as you got up and went over to the window. “Sarah, wh-what are you doing here?”

“Hey mom, can we talk?”

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